


The Twelfth Night Gambit

by RainbowDoom



Series: Colette Attempts to Matchmake [2]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Identity Porn, M/M, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowDoom/pseuds/RainbowDoom
Summary: Someone is trying to kill Tarvek, and for once he isn't related to them. But with no smoke knight to watch his back, Tarvek Sturmvoraus has to leave Paris. Enter Tatiana Petrov, a rich noble from Russia who's old friends with Colette Voltaire. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. A Disguise

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I said I'd work on the Paris Chronicles? I lied. I wrote this instead. Enjoy.

Tarvek woke up to the terrifying sensation of not knowing where he was. He forced himself to keep from panicking and instead feign sleep while he took in his bearings. Tarvek breathed slowly and focused. He was on a couch, fully dressed, and not tied to anything. Which was an improvement over a lot of the situations he’d woken up in over the years. There was also a blanket over him, which suggested that though this wasn’t Tarvek’s couch it was perhaps one he’d chosen to fall asleep on. Carefully, he opened his eyes. 

The room around him was blurry, but it seemed familiar. It was also empty. Light streamed in from a window, telling him it was daytime. There were also the forms of chairs and a table and some bookshelves. He was in a sitting room then. He located his glasses on the table and put them on. With clear vision he recognized where he was. This was Colette’s sitting room. The previous day came back to him. Grandmother’s ultimatum, the smoke knights on his tail, and finally hiding in the Voltaire Chateau. He groaned at the memory, his plans had been thrown into disarray.

First things first though, Tarvek needed to stay alive. Plans were worth nothing if you were too dead to see them through. For that he’d need Colette. He’d also need to engage the services of a bodyguard. Tricky business to find someone who could stand up to a smoke knight. Tarvek’s thoughts flickered briefly to Gil’s pirate. He shook the thought away, asking Dupree for help was a very bad idea. She would, but whatever she’d want in exchange was probably worse than ending up dead. Perhaps Colette would know of someone appropriate.

With that thought Tarvek hauled himself to his feet. He picked the blanket up. He hadn’t bothered with one when he went to sleep, which meant Colette knew he was here. He made his way over to the door that lead into Colette’s bedroom and knocked. There was no response. Tarvek knocked again, louder, but still there was no answer. Hesitatingly he turned the knob it was unlocked, he pressed the door slightly inwards.

“Colette?” Tarvek called.

When there was again no answer he opened the door the rest of the way. The room was empty of Colette, the light streaming in from the window revealed that the bed was made. Colette was awake then and elsewhere. Tarvek dug his watch out of his waistcoat and checked the time. It was half past eight. A late morning for Tarvek, but not so late as to be lazy. Colette was probably still in the Chateau somewhere. Well, she knew where he was if she needed him. Tarvek made a beeline for Colette’s bath, the door of which stood open. 

Tarvek took a bath and even found that Colette had set out a toothbrush for him. Clean and refreshed, Tarvek was remembering all the reasons he had to not simply let himself get killed and spare everyone the trouble. He combed his hair, but Colette’s range of hair products were wholly unsuitable for his purposes. Tarvek shuffled through them twice, to no avail. His hair then frizzed determinedly the more he combed it. Eventually he gave up and tied it into his signature ponytail.

It bothered Tarvek to appear anything less than immaculate. Not only because it undermined his fop persona which was a quintessential part of making himself appear docile, but because it had become a sort of armor against the world. Tarvek left plenty of openings and avenues of attack for the gossipers and backstabbers of the ton. His appearance and dress though had always been beyond approach. They might criticize his idleness, his politics or his taste in theater, but they could not criticize his coats. It was a point of pride. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Tarvek would have to live with his frizzy hair and rumpled clothes, at least it meant he would live. 

Reluctantly Tarvek dragged himself out of Colette’s bathroom. Only to come upon the lady herself. Colette was half dressed in petticoats and corset. A pair of practical canvas trousers peeking out from beneath the petticoats. She seemed completely unbothered to have Tarvek walking in on her half dressed. Tarvek did not share her stociness and felt his face flush as he turned abruptly around. Colette just laughed at him. 

“Really, cherie it is only me.” 

“You are a lady in dishabille.” Tarvek retorted.

“Ever the gentleman.” Colette laughed.

There was some rustling while Tarvek resolutely stared at the wall. In truth he understood why Colette was unbothered, she had been more covered then some of her adventuring outfits left her. Still there was something about the idea that certain items of clothing weren’t meant to be seen, that made seeing them seem wrong. Though it was nice that Colette was comfortable enough with him not to be angered by the intrusion. Tarvek had climbed in her window and fallen asleep on her settee without so much as a ‘by your leave’. He knew Anveka would be furious if she caught him asleep in her sitting room, though that perhaps had more to do with the fact that he had his own bed just a few doors away.

“I am decent.” There was more laughter in Colette’s voice.

Tarvek turned back around. Sure enough Colette was dressed in a light green dress. It was a very nice day dress, the kind one might wear for a walk in the park with a suitor. Colette was no fashionista, but she did pay enough attention to fashion that she would not waste such a dress simply for attending class. It made Tarvek suspicious. He eyed the darker green embroidery that swirled across the skirts of the dress in a parody of circuitry. Well, he’d find out what the dress was for soon enough.

“I apologize for imposing upon your hospitality without warning.”

“You are always welcome in my home.” Colette assured him.

Tarvek smiled relieved, “I need your help, Cherie.”

It took twenty minutes and a plate piled with pain au chocolat and two pots of coffee to explain the situation to Colette. Tarvek had to start at the beginning, because all of Colette’s information she’d gathered second hand and it wasn’t worth sorting through what information of hers was accurate and what wasn’t. So he explained, even the minute details of the actual attacks in the hopes they might contain some clue as to who the attacker was. Tarvek did play down his own involvement in a few of the assassination attempts, he trusted Colette but she was also friends with Seffie. Tarvek liked Seffie, but he didn’t trust her. 

When he finished Colette was scowling. Tarvek was honestly a little terrified of the expression. He was thankful that Colette’s anger was on his behalf, rather than directed at him. Colette looked like she was plotting the most efficient way to burn the entire city to the ground. Tarvek really hoped she had a better solution than that. He liked Paris. Tarvek watched Colette warily in silence as the scowled morphed into frustration then concentrated focus. Then with a growing horror he watched as it transformed into delight. Colette looked at him with a delight similar to that Anveka had had when she’d promised she could fix his eyesight. Tarvek swallowed hard.

“I have a plan!” said Colette before surging to her feet. 

Tarvek stood slower, as Colette rushed across the room and into her closet. Tarvek followed more hesitatingly across the floor, and approached the entrance to the closet. He had a flash of memory of Gil’s hands wrapped around his as they were pressed close to each other inside a closet. Gil had been about to say something, Tarvek still wondered what it had been. He was pulled from his musings by Colette flinging a pile of cloth at his face. Tarvek closed his eyes and let it impact him, before grabbing at it.

“What the-” he spluttered examining the pile of cloth then he realized what it was and his annoyed spluttering cut off, “This is a petticoat.”

“Yes, you should be wearing at least three.” Colette said and two more white starched and ruffled skirts were flung at him.

“What?” Tarvek said even though he already knew the answer.

Colette ignored him instead a corset was flung at Tarvek’s face. His hands full of petticoats Tarvek let it hit him in the face before plopping it atop the pile. It was actually a rather nice corset, with whalebone ribbing and lace accents. Tarvek admired it as Colette grumbled to herself in an incomprehensible mix of languages picking through her closet. Then she emerged empty handed.

“Your shoulders are too big, and frankly you’re too tall. I’m going to have to borrow a dress from someone else.”

That would be suspicious. Tarvek spent a moment dithering. He really rather didn’t want to mention this to anyone, and certainly not to someone who’s opinion actually mattered. But the more people who figured out what they were up to the more openings for people finding out, the higher the probability Tarvek would end up with a knife in the back. He sighed and set the pile of cloth down on a chair. 

“Colette.” he said as she was about to exit the room.

“If you have a better plan, I’m happy to hear it. But if you don’t, I don’t want unnecessary whining.” Colette had her hands on her hips and that stubborn expression on her face that made the Master of Paris back down.

“I do actually.” Tarvek said taking off his glasses to clean them, “There’s an apartment in the 5th Appellate, I have a, well, a rather more appropriate outfit there.”

Tarvek put his glasses back on and hesitatingly met Colette’s gaze. She smiled softly at him, “Alright give me the address.”

  
  


Gil carefully guided Zola down the street. The poor girl was half asleep, and her pretty yellow dress was in pieces. She had Gil’s coat wrapped firmly around her to cover up the rather more unfortunate missing pieces of said dress. She was also still damp. It had been a rather trying week, and for once it hadn’t been Zola’s fault. Gil had had the empty hope that the job at the opera house would help settle Zola down a bit, instead she’d ended up with a creepy stalker who had some rather creative uses for stage effects.

Now it was practically noon and Zola was exhausted. Gil was annoyed, but for once not with her. He was annoyed with the staff of the opera house who hadn’t noticed the spark living in their basement. They had also ignored Zola’s initial complaints about the stalker, which had allowed things to escalate to the point that had involved Gil dueling the fellow to death and Zola trapped in a flooding room of a death trap. Gil had caught the man in the midst of attempting to assault Zola, who had been putting up a rather good fight. He wished Bang hadn’t been recalled to the Castle, she would’ve had a suitably creative and painful death for the creep. For now though all there was to do was see Zola home and safe.

Zola lived in one of those parts of Paris that was filled with artists. The kind who made steady livings, but would never be respectable. It was one of Gil’s preferred parts of the city, there were all sorts of interesting people here. Not quite as interesting as those who lived near the university, as there were almost no sparks her, but interesting in their varied lives. It was precisely the part of town that made Tarvek crinkle his nose and scoff. Though, Gil had run into him on the edges of it a surprising amount, for someone who thought it was a scandalous part of town to be in.

Gil pondered that curiosity for a bit. It was certainly better than thinking about more creative ways to have killed Zola’s stalker. He suspected that secretly, this was precisely the kind of place Tarvek wanted to be. He was overly fond of Opera, and the more modern musical movements. If Tarvek wasn’t quite so prissy, or maybe if he was a couple rungs lower on the aristocratic ladder, he might be right here alongside Gil rubbing elbows with the lifeblood of Europan culture. Of course, there was nothing to be gained from associating with thespians, and starving artists. So maybe, he’d be busy climbing his way back up the ladder instead.

Before that line of thought could sour Gil’s mood further they arrived at Zola’s boarding house. Ostensibly it was a place for single young ladies. Men were strictly banned from the premises. Gil though had done a rather good job of chasing off the landlady’s bastard of an ex husband and had even recovered her tiny yipping dog. As a result, that particular rule did not apply to Gil. So, Gil dug the spare key he had to Zola’s apartment, which had been a frustratingly useful possession and made his way through the tiny iron gate into the shabby building. The place was falling apart at the edges, but it was clean.

Two steps in the door he was swarmed by worried women, who quickly plucked Zola from Gil’s grip and swept her away. Gil managed to grab one and communicate what had happened. It involved a lot of stuttering and blushing, but when he was done a determined look crossed the girls face. She assured Gil they would handle it and summarily dismissed him. Gil found himself back on the street feeling rather a bit like he’d been run over by a cart. After a moment he decided it was for the best, Zola had already cried on him once today. He didn’t think he could handle a second incident.

Gil strode determinedly off down the street. He’d gone three blocks by the time he realized he didn’t have a destination. He’d been up all night just like Zola, unlike Zola though he could go days without sleep. He was feeling rather too agitated to contemplate going home and sleeping. It was Saturday, so he had no classes today. He would be expected at a club meeting for the Society of Parisian Architectural Abnormalities, one of the dozens of clubs dedicated to sussing out how the Master controlled Paris, that evening but the day was his.

Gil wondered how long it would take him, randomly wandering around Paris, to stumble upon a rampaging spark or a creative thief, or some such chaos. He made a bet with himself. If it took less than half an hour he would bother Tarvek about their bet at the meeting tonight. If it took longer, he’d take a stab at apologizing again. Ten minutes had passed in which Gil dodged through alleys to make the trip more exciting, he was just sliding out of an alley that was perhaps a bit too narrow for his shoulders when he came upon the incident. Or well, he came upon a fancy carriage with the symbol of Voltaire emblazoned on the side. It wasn’t a rampaging abomination of science, but it was interesting. Gil fixed his clothes, in case it was Colette, and sauntered over to investigate.

A group of liveried servants were unloading trunks and hat boxes from the carriage, and hauling them inside the building. This building was one of the newer ones in the area, the whole neighborhood was clearly in the process of being rebuilt, piping and electrical lines were being laid, buildings were half constructed, it was all very much in development. The buildings that were finished were the kind of places that only a leading lady ten years into her career could even hope of affording. It was one of those neighborhoods, for the nouveau riche and the sparky aristocrats who wanted to live close to the bohemian lifestyle, but not actually be a part of it. 

Altogether a strange, but not scandalous place for a Voltaire to be living. Gil wandered which of Colette’s siblings had decided to move out of the family chateau. Curiosity dragged hi towards the building itself. No one stopped him as he navigated his way between servants and workmen. Though one lady walking a large dog gave him a disgusted look. Gil followed behind a servant carrying a stack of hat boxes up into one of the spacious apartments. Third floor walk up, nice but not extravagant. He entered the room with the sort of brazen confidence that got him into the restricted store rooms in the biological science buildings. Just inside the main living space two women were watching the servants unload the trunks. One of which had a very familiar figure.

“My apologies Tatiana, but we couldn’t find anything nicer on such short notice. If only your first letter hadn’t gotten lost.” Colette was saying.

“Oh not at all.” replied her companion in a startlingly low voice, though given the height of the woman it shouldn’t have been, “It’s very up and coming. Plus so close to the theater, why it's positively quaint.”

Confidence bolstered by Colette’s presence. Gil knocked on the open door. He watched as Colette turned and smiled at him in delighted surprise.

“Gil! What a delightful surprise! What brings you here?” Colette said crossing the room to embrace him.

Gil felt slightly embarrassed that he’d been wearing the same outfit for over 24 hours now, but the death trap had been a bit like a bath, the water had been clean at least. He hoped he didn’t smell. Colette was still smiling when she released him, so he supposed not.

“I was in the neighborhood, saw the carriage and thought I would check it out.” Gil shrugged.

“Well this is just perfect! Tatiana, I’d like to introduce you to my dear friend Gilgamesh Holzfaller a student at the Institute d'Extraordinaire. Gil, this is my dear friend Tatiana Petrov, all the way from Moscow!”

Gil turned then to actually look at Colette’s companion. His first impression was of bright blond hair, and a ruffled blue dress. She was curtsying to him slightly in greeting. Then she raised her head brushing a loose golden lock out of her face and smiling shyly.

“A pleasure to meet you Monsieur Holzfaller.”

Gil stared into Tatiana’s face in shock. It was after all terribly familiar. He glanced briefly at Colette who was smiling as if she was truly excited to be introducing two dear friends to each other. Gil glanced back at Tatiana, and made a quick decision. Whatever game they were playing he was going to win. Gil smiled his best flirtatious smiled as he bent to kiss Tatiana’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine.”


	2. A Flirtation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever. It's extra long though.

Tarvek was panicking. He knew he was going to run into Gil eventually, but he’d had a vain hope that it wouldn’t be until after he’d had the chance to establish Tatiana’s character. All Tarvek had so far was the rough outline Colette had given him, based on the real Tatiana. The selling point of this disguise was that Colette had a friend from Russia named Tatiana Petrov, who was supposed to come visit and had cancelled at the last minute. Conveniently, not having been to Paris since she was eight. It was almost suspiciously convenient. 

Except, while Colette hadn’t exactly been surprised at the discovery that Tarvek had on occasion worn dresses for his own enjoyment, she hadn’t known before he told her. It had seemed more like Colette had come up with the idea, because of the convenient situation. It had been a horrible terrifying moment to admit as much to Colette. He knew of course what people said about such activity, what they thought. While Colette certainly had no problem with the fact that Tarvek liked men and women, that didn’t mean she didn’t think wearing dresses made Tarvek some sort of degenerate. 

It was in a way an immense relief to have someone who knew him as Tarvek, know about his proclivities. Rather than just the men he met in the sort of anonymous places, one did such things. Someone other than Anveka, who seemed to think it was hilarious. Colette knew, and her response to knowing was to take Tarvek, or rather Tatiana on a bit of a shopping trip. A made up story about a luggage disaster caused by a rural spark, and Tatiana had an excuse for buying a bunch of Ready-Made dresses and having alterations done on a rush order. The other bonus was that Colette was a lot better at make-up than Tarvek and had done a fantastic job softening Tarvek’s features. He could actually pass for a woman now.

The problem was then of course, Tarvek’s eternal problem Gilgamesh Holzfaller. Who in his typical fashion had blundered right into things without so much as a by your leave. Honestly, who just waltzed into a building on an off chance their friend and not one of their two dozen odd siblings might be in it? Gilgamesh Holzfaller that’s who. Of course, Colette was here and that of course was part of the problem. So now, Tarvek’s first real test of Tatiana was against Gilgamesh Holzfaller which would be a real challenge.

Gil is holding Tarvek’s proffered hand still, though he’s already given it a kiss. One that had hovered a tantalizing millimeter over Tarvek’s hand. Gloved or not, he’d still felt the heat of Gil’s breath. Tarvek doesn’t actually know what to do next, which is an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. Gil he knows should have probably let go of his hand by now. He’d exceeded the polite amount of time to do so, and Tarvek was now supposed to do something about it. What, he had no idea, and it was hard to think of something with Gil standing there smiling at him. After entirely too long, but what in reality was only a handful of seconds Gil released his hand. 

“Welcome to Paris, mademoiselle.” Gil said still smiling affably.

Tarvek blinked at him and then realised abruptly that Gil was flirting with him. He felt his face heat and ducked his head in a futile attempt to hide it. Normally, Tarvek would react by twisting his embarrassment into anger, but that would hardly work for Tatiana. Instead, he had to lean into the embarrassment. He ducked his head and fluttered his eye lashes like he’d seen Anveka do to unsuspecting suitors. Then he tried to look up at Gil through his eyelashes, which was difficult, because his heels put him an inch higher than Gil.

Gil blinked at him dumbly for a second then blushed. Tarvek silently celebrated his victory. Tatiana was apparently, now a flirt which was certainly something Tarvek could work with. Especially if it put Gil off kilter every time. Tatiana was becoming more solid in his mind. Tarvek needed a persona that would allow him to do what he needed to figure out who wanted him dead and eliminate them. A flirt was useful for that, and Tarvek had seen both Anveka and Seffie in action enough that he was reasonably certain that not only could he pull it off, but twist it to his advantage.

Tatiana was a flirt and an adventurer, Tarvek decided. An adventuress would be in the seedier parts of the city and even the underground tunnels, and she would be expected to be strong, tough and smart. Plus it explained her friendship with Colette. An adventuress of course would be endlessly charmed by Gil’s particular brand of charisma, thus concealing Tarvek’s more visceral reactions to Gilgamesh Holzfaller. Anger could easily be twisted into embarrassment and vice versa. It would also be a convenient cover for the way in which Tarvek and Gil’s lives were in endless collision. 

Gil shifted watching Tarvek carefully, and glanced over at Colette, “What brings you to Paris?” he asked in a tone that implied he didn’t know if he should be asking it.

“Visiting a dear friend of course.” Tarvek replied gesturing to Colette, “And of course Paris is  _ the  _ place to be.”

Colette clearly deciding this line of questioning would send Tarvek careening towards disaster, which frankly was a little insulting. Tarvek could handle Gil’s version of an interrogation, interjected, “I have just had the best idea!”

That made Tarvek immediately suspicious, he turned so he could glare at Colette without Gil seeing. She ignored him.

“Gil, why don’t you show Tatiana around Paris? I would do it myself, but I promised Seffie I would meet her for tea.”

Ah, the reason for the dress then. Tarvek should have guessed.

Colette swanned over to Gil and patted him on the cheek, “Thank you so much, Cherie. I’ve been so worried about abandoning poor Tatiana so soon after she arrived.”

Then Colette swanned from the room despite the fact Gil had yet to agree to any such thing. Tarvek turned to Gil and offered up a sympathetic look. Gil just sighed, “Well I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Hardly, a tragedy Monsieur Holzfaller.” Tarvek said insinuating his arm through Gil’s, “Now why don’t you show me the City of Love?”

  
  


Gil cursed Colette in his head as he led Tarvek down the street. She probably thought this was hilarious. Tarvek had taken up the personality of an enthusiastic young woman, and was hanging on his arm with rapt attention as Gil gave a tour of Paris to someone who had been there for exactly as long as he had. Tarvek made enthusiastic sounds and asked the kind of questions a girl from Moscow might actually have asked. He also pressed as tight against Gil’s side as he could manage.

Apparently, Tarvek had decided to take advantage of his disguise to embarrass Gil as much as possible. He was flirting shamelessly, and leaving Gil flustered at every opportunity. Right now Tarvek had managed to tuck Gil’s arm tight against his very realistic chest, as he peered past Gil to point at something of architectural interest. Gil tried to distract himself from the feel by wondering what exactly Tarvek had used. Some sort of gelatin perhaps? He wanted to ask and fluster Tarvek instead.

That was perhaps the worst part of all this. If Colette had let them stay inside the apartment, Gil could’ve asked what was going on once the servants had cleared out. Here on the street though it wasn’t safe to ask. Gil might not know exactly what Colette and Tarvek were up to, but he got the gist. The Tatiana bit was some sort of disguise, probably to help with the whole “someone aggressively trying to kill Tarvek” thing. Why they thought dressing him up as a woman was the best way to go was the real question.

Here on the street he couldn’t risk asking, or saying anything that might give away the game. Which was probably why Colette had done it, to mess with him. Gil forced himself to smile and act charming as if he was really giving a tour of Paris to a pretty young lady. Tarvek did make for a pretty young lady, whatever Tarvek and Colette had done to create the disguise it had been incredibly effective. Tarvek was hardly the bulkiest of men, but Tatiana had subtle feminine curves that Tarvek certainly did not. Tarvek’s face was rather fine featured for a man, but whatever makeup he was wearing had transformed them into something that could be considered delicate.

Underneath the disguise of course were still Tarvek’s sharp gaze and his aristocratic nose. Those delicate features still shaped themselves into perfectly percise expressions. The disguise was very good, but anyone who actually knew Tarvek would be able to see through it. Though chances were an assassin would be looking for a finely dressed prince, with bright red hair, and not a tall slavic lady with straw blond hair. Which was probably the point, but if the source of the assassins was someone related to Tarvek, they would only need to see Tatiana once, to realize why their assassins suddenly couldn’t find Tarvek.

Gil tried not to frown at Tarvek while he pondered the situation. He’d somehow managed to develop a reputation of being something of a ladies’ man, and it would be immediately suspicious if he was seen being unhappy to have a pretty young lady dangling off his arm. Gil had no idea how he’d managed to develop the reputation, he couldn’t string more than two sentences together when speaking to a girl without sticking his foot in his mouth. Which was why every time he ran into Tarvek it was a different girl on his arm, making Tarvek think Gil was a cad. A perception that was at least useful in keeping Tarvek from realizing Gil was anyone important. 

“Monsieur Holzfaller?” 

Gil startled out of his pondering to find Tarvek pouting at him. It was a bizarre expression to find on his face. Gil mostly found pouting a rather annoying habit of many young ladies, but Tarvek managed to twist it into something that was almost charming. 

“Sorry, were you saying something?” Gil said trying to look apologetic when he was mostly feeling rather lost.

“Am I boring you?” Tarvek asked dipping his head and looking away, his voice cracked the tiniest bit.

Gil instantly felt guilty, and more confused at feeling guilty. Tarvek sounded genuinely hurt, which was ridiculous. It still triggered that part of Gil that needed to please everyone around him though, despite his knowing that it was almost certainly fake.

“No, of course not. I’m just distracted.” Gil found himself apologizing.

Tarvek turned back towards Gil, but didn’t quite meet his eyes, “Do you have somewhere you need to be? I do realize that Colette rather sprung this on you. I understand if you have something better to do, I’m sure I can manage to find my way around the city myself.”

Gil knew Tarvek could find his own way around the city, he  _ knew.  _ Yet, somehow he still felt the shame wash over him at the idea he might leave a young lady to fend for herself in the confusing metropolis that was Paris. Tarvek managed to look precisely like a young girl who was trying not to look upset, but was in fact very upset. Gil  _ felt _ like the cad Tarvek always accused him of being. It was not at all fair. Suddenly, he was no longer guilty but mad.

Gil narrowed his eyes at Tarvek and opened his mouth to berate the other man for trying to manipulate him like that. Just before he did Tarvek fluttered his eyelashes, and Gil found his anger draining out of him. Not because the eyelash fluttering had worked, even if Tarvek had exceptionally long lashes and absurdly pretty eyes, but because Gil realized what Tarvek was doing. He was flirting with Gil. Tarvek wanted Gil to get flustered and angry, wanted Gil to call him out. He was messing with him. This was a game for Tarvek, and probably Colette too. Well, if Tarvek wanted to play then Gil was going to play. He wasn’t just going to play along though, no Gil was going to  _ win _ . 

Gil closed his mouth and he smiled as charmingly as he could, and pulled Tarvek tighter against his side. He even raised a hand to brush a stray blond hair out his face. The motion startled Tarvek who certainly hadn’t been expecting it.

“My apologies,” Gil said “I am truly a horrendous cad to make such a beautiful lady feel ignored. There is no excuse for such action, but I must confess that I’ve been worrying over a” Gil hesitated over the temptation to say ‘friend’, “an acquaintance of mine, whose found himself in a spot of trouble. I allowed that concern to distract me, I will not make such a mistake again.”

Tarvek was blinking up at him in startled bewilderment still, which Gil took as encouragement. So he kept going, even with the laughing Bang in his head telling him to quit while he was ahead.

“If you can be so good as to forgive me Mademoiselle Tatiana.” Gil snatched up Tarvek’s free hand and pulled it to his mouth for a kiss.

Tarvek could feel his entire brain screaming at him to abort. This had been a horrendously terrible idea, he could feel his face heating as his entire brain ground to a sudden halt. He had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation, half of him wanted to punch Gil in the face and run away as fast as possible, the other half wanted to melt into a puddle of goo. The result of the conflicting urges was that Tarvek just stood there like a limpet while Gil  _ kissed his hand. _

Unlike the greeting kiss Gil had given him this one actually involved Gil’s lips making contact with his hand. Tarvek couldn’t decide if he wished he wasn’t wearing gloves, or was eternally thankful that he was. This kiss was as different from the first as kissing a lover was from kissing one’s grandmother. The first had been a polite greeting, this was a bold flirtation. Tarvek had been expecting the first, the second had blindsided him.

Tarvek had definitely not considered the fact that Gil might be attracted to Tatiana. He’d flirted mostly because for once he could. He hadn’t expected Gil to reciprocate. He hadn’t been prepared for Gil to reciprocate. Gil was just smiling at him charmingly while holding Tarvek’s hand. It took all of Tarvek’s willpower to force his muscles to work and pulled his hand back. He ducked his head to hide what was most certainly a spectacular blush. He needed to say something.

“A-apology accepted, monsieur.” Tarvek winced mentally over the stutter, but he did manage to maintain his Tatiana voice. 

“Much obliged.” Gil answered, “Now where were we on that tour.”

Gil threw himself into the tour with much more enthusiasm after that. He gave detailed descriptions of the historic parts of the city and shared amusing anecdotes of his own adventures. Tarvek found a genuine laugh being drawn out of him as Gil recounted an event involving an army of rubber ducks, and a failed flirtation between a university spark and a dancehall girl that had resulted in a sausage factory being set on fire. Tarvek had even been there, the university spark had somehow gotten the idea that his lady was in love with Tarvek and had set the army of rubber ducks that happened to have very sharp teeth and breath fire upon him. By the time Gil had shown up to defeat the spark and ultimately win the girl, Tarvek had lost his favorite pair of boots to the ducks and had been forced to take refuge atop a laundry cart and had ended up with an overly frilly bonnet on his head through a series of unfortunate events. 

Gil’s shirt had caught on fire and he’d maybe attempted to offer Tarvek his boots. Tarvek though had been rather overly humiliated by the bonnet as the hilarity at it struck a little too close to home, and had maybe tossed one of his ruined boots at Gil’s face, and hit the spark instead. Prompting a second attack by the rubber ducks, which had resulted in Tarvek’s trousers being ruined as well. The way Gil told the story though painted the spark as a hopeless child, the ducks as a ridiculous weapon, Gil as the one being humiliated, and Tarvek simply as an unfortunate bystander who’d done a rather good job of protecting the girl. Tarvek couldn’t decide if the more surprising thing was that Gil realized Tarvek had been trying to defend the girl, or that he completely glossed over his own heroism.

Of course, the laughter had only encouraged Gil who proceeded to forget about the tour in favor of telling increasingly absurd stories. All of the stories Tarvek knew were true, he’d been present from quite a lot of them. Despite that Gil never made Tarvek the butt of the joke, even when it would’ve been an accurate retelling of events. Tarvek couldn’t fathom why Gil would do that, but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in Tarvek’s stomach. As they went on Tarvek felt himself relax into his role. Being Tatiana was easy in that it simply meant interacting with Gil without the underlying tension of all the history between them.

It was nice. Later, Tarvek would have a proper freak out about all the warm fuzzy feelings that were bubbling up in him as Gil smiled, laughed and charmed Tatiana. At the moment though Tarvek let himself enjoy it because Tatiana would’ve enjoyed it. Normally, Tarvek and Gil would’ve had two whole fights in the amount of time they had spent together. As Tatiana though Tarvek had spent the majority of the time laughing. He was smothering a truly unladylike guffaw behind his free hand, when reality decided to assert itself. 

Gil had as Colette had ordered been giving Tatiana a tour of the city which meant they ade their way fro the artistic district they had started on the edge of through the university sector of the city, where thankfully they managed to not run into any of GIl’s band of degenerate friends. The kind of people Tarvek openly associated with wouldn’t be caught in this part of the city on a weekend, so there was no risk there. However, they quickly made their way past the university to the ore bougie parts of the city. 

There of course, Tarvek had a good chance of running into someone he knew. So of course, as soon as he turned away from Gil’s smiling face to examine their surroundings he saw someone he knew. Not just anyone, but the flash of red hair he caught meant it was family. Tarvek tried to subtly tug Gil in another direction, but the hulking brute resisted Tarvek’s nudges. When Tarvek started not so subtly directing him instead, Gil stopped dead in the street and turned to face Tarvek full on. Which gave Gil the opportunity to make eye contact with one of the people Tarvek was trying to avoid.

To Gil’s credit his reaction to spotting Martellus and Seffie was to try to abruptly about face, but it was too late. Seffie was already calling across the street to them. This forced GIl and Tarvek to instead make their way to wear Seffie and Martellus were now standing.

“Monsieur Holzfaller what a wonderful surprise!” Seffie declared once they were in appropriate range.

Tarvek could tell from her tone of voice that she had set up this collision. Colette must have told her something. Tarvek trusted Colette not to let his disguise to slip to Seffie, but she would’ve had to tell Seffie about Tatiana. Seffie of course would be interested in Colette’s friend, Tarvek had prepared for this. So had Colette apparently. Seffie meeting Tatiana with Gil, would ease the interaction. Seffie was under the impression that Tarvek couldn’t stand Gil, if Seffie first met Tatiana while she was interacting with Gil she wouldn’t consider that Tatiana might be Tarvek. The additional bonus was Tatiana’s blatant flirting with Gil would keep Seffie from considering Tatiana a competitor for Colette’s affection. 

Martellus wouldn’t even consider the idea that Tarvek might disguise himself as a woman. Tweedle was cleverer then he initially appeared, but he was blinded by his own assumptions of the world. His greatest weakness was his inability to anticipate change or accept progressive movements. Tarvek and Martellus both sought to usurp the Wulfenbach empire, but Martellus wanted to wipe the Pax Transylvania out completely. Tarvek however wanted to steal it, after all why throw away a functional bureaucracy and infrastructure when you can use it instead? Tarvek wasn’t concerned that Martellus might see through his disguise. Seffie though, she might. Out of all his relatives Seffie was the biggest threat to Tarvek’s position, if she decided to throw her full weight behind Martellus thenn Tarvek was doomed. He pressed himself closer to Gil as if Gil’s general Gilness could blind Seffie to Tarvek’s presence.

“Princess Xersephina, you look radiant as always!” Gil said brightly, but his voice was tight around the edges.

Seffie blushed, when had she learned to do that on command? Tarvek had to admit though she did look radiant her dress was a perfect display of understated elegance, and made Seffie look all the more beautiful for its lack of clear ornamentation. The dark grey dress was desecrated with green accents that would’ve matched Colette’s dress perfectly. Tarvek wondered which of them had planned that combination. 

“Monsieur Holzfaller have you had the pleasure of meeting my brother Martellus?”

No one who’d actually met Martellus would consider meeting him a pleasure. Though Tarvek was pretty sure Gil had met Martellus, they were technically in the same biology classes. Tarvek turned to examine Gil’s face. The twist of his smile implied that he had had the misfortune of meeting Martellus.

“Not at all, a pleasure your highness.” Gil answered offering the hand not attached to the arm Tarvek had wrapped himself around.

Martellus made a face that implied he was pretty sure He and Gil had been introduced already, but didn’t want to point it out. It made him look constipated. Tarvek wished he could pretend he didn’t know Martellus when he met him. Did Gil do that every time? How often had they met? Tarvek suddenly really wanted to know. It delighted him that Gil might dislike Martellus as much as he did. 

Martellus shook Gil’s hand, and Tarvek watched their knuckles turn white as they squeezed the living daylights out of each other. Seffie didn’t seem bothered by the display of masculinity and had turned her scrutinizing gaze on Tarvek instead. Tarvek watched out of the corner of his eye as Seffie’s gaze fixed to where Tarvek was curled around Gil’s arm. A frown formed onto her face. It vanished quickly, but Tarvek caught the slip. 

“Monsieur Holzfaller introduce us to your friend.” There was an intent behind friend that made Tarvek want to sneer at her in response.

“Please, your highness it’s Gil.” Gil said instead of introducing Tarvek.

Seffie’s smile turned smug. It was of course highly inappropriate for Gilgamesh Holzfaller the Master’s pet or not to be on a first name basis with Seffie. The request implied an intimacy that Tarvek knew didn’t exist. Tarvek knew Gil just despised formalities in general, not that he considered Seffie a close personal friend. Something Seffie knew Tarvek knew, and also thought Tarvek wouldn’t care about. Which meant Seffie didn’t know Tarvek was Tarvek. That was a good sign for Tarvek’s disguise. Seffie had always been his primary concern, between her close friendship with Colette, and her general skillset Seffie was both capable of seeing through Tarvek’s disguise and in a position to figure it out. If Seffie couldn’t see through it then nobody could.Seffie was smiling smugly because she’d won one over another lady not because she suspected Tarvek’s disguise.

“Then you must call me Seffie.” Seffie was saying as the gears in Tarvek’s mind twisted.

“Seffie I don’t think-” Martellus began to protest, but Seffie cut him off with a well placed jab.

“If you insist.” Gil answered still in that bright voice.

Tarvek slid another gaze at Gil’s face, he was smirking. Gil looked like he did right before he was going to fling himself bodily at a monster. Tarvek felt his body tense in response, anticipating the coming fight. He had no idea what Gil was planning, but whatever it was Tarvek would have to move fast to keep from becoming collateral damage. 

“Seffie.” said Gil with emphasis, “May I present Tatiana Petrov, a dear friend of Colette’s. Tatiana, the Princess Xersephina von Blitzengaard and her brother Martin.”

“Martellus, “ growled Martellus.

“Of course,” answered Gil.

Tarvek had to swallow a giddy laugh, as he dipped a polite curtsey. It required unwinding himself partially from around Gil’s arm. He didn’t release Gil’s arm entirely though and watched as the lines around Seffie’s eyes tightened. Tarvek wasn’t sure why his flirting with Gil was bothering Seffie so much, but he was sure as hell going to take advantage of it. 

“Pleased to meet you.” Tarvek said smiling.

Seffie’s smile stayed sharp, “Colette was just telling me about you! You should absolutely come to the soiree I’m hosting later this week. I’ll send you an invitation.”

Tarvek produced one of Tatiana’s cards. Seffie took it, but did not offer one of her own in exchange. Tarvek wasn’t offended, Seffie might be willing to invite Tatiana to a party as what was most likely a favor to Colette, but allowing Tatiana to call on her freely was a step too far. Seffie’s intent though was clearly offense, but Tarvek didn’t want an obligation to spend more time around Seffie in his disguise.

“You’ll be there, won’t you?” Seffie asked Gil.

“Uh,” said Gil who generally avoided interacting with the upper classes, “Of course,” it sounded more like a question then an agreement. 

“Good, then you absolutely must save me a dance.”, Seffie insisted.

“Of course.” said Gil sounding more sure this time.

Tarvek tightened his grip on Gil’s arm, Gil’s gaze jerked over to Tarvek. Their eyes met, Tarvek didn’t know what expression to make. Gil was looking at him worriedly. Tarvek morphed his features into a comforting smile. Gil’s worried look intensified. Tarvek tried to adjust the smile, but Gil was already turning back to Seffie and Martellus. 

“I’m sure you both have somewhere to be, so we’ll let you go.” Gil said starting to move past Seffie and Martellus.

It’s not the most tactful exit, but no one expects tact from sparks. Particularly not from sparks born amongst the lower classes. Martellus makes a face, but Seffie just shakes her head dismissively.

“I will see you both at my soiree!” Seffie said in lieu of a goodbye. 

Gil hauled Tarvek away walking a little faster than was necessary. Tarvek struggled a bit to match his pace at first in his skirt and heels. Gil must have noticed, because he slowed his pace back down once they’d gotten out of earshot of Martellus and Seffie. Then he went and dragged Tarvek into an alley. Tarvek checked to see if they were being followed, but he could sense anyone. Gil was checking to make sure no one was paying attention to them.

“Are you okay?” Gil asked.

Tarvek blinked at him confused, “Yes?”

“Princess Xersephina seemed upset with you” Gil said sounding agitated.

So Gil had noticed. Tarvek was surprised, but Gil was always observant at the oddest times. He was also oblivious at the most frustrating times. Tarvek was still figuring out which was which, it was the one part of Gil he could never seem to pin down no matter how hard he tried. That deficiency made interacting with Gil dangerous, Tarvek could never be sure how much he was giving away. At least Gil was upfront about most things, which made sussing out what he had noticed easier.

“I, um” Tarvek said going for embarrassed, “think her highness may have been jealous.”

“Jealous?” repeated Gil blindsided.

Tarvek was going to have to spell it out for him, wasn’t he? 

“She might’ve seen your  _ attentiveness _ to me, as a bit of a coup.”

Gil continued to blink at Tarvek in bafflement, “But she likes Colette.”

Not the kind of thing Gil should just be telling people. Even if Tatiana was ostensibly Colette’s friend. THough Gil did have a point, Tarvek used to the one upmanship that went hand in hand with the backstabbing of his family, had assumed Seffie simply didn’t like another woman honing on on her territory. Gil though wasn’t one of Seffie’s erstwhile suitors, and she’d never been bothered by any of the other women who hung off Gil. It was a curious thing. 

“That wouldn’t stop her from considering you one of her conquests.” Tarvek explained.

It was a little more insightful then he wanted Tatiana to be. Still, it was a fair sacrifice in exchange for Gil being more wary of Seffie. The last thing Tarvek needed was Gil befriending Seffie. That would spell disaster for both Tarvek and Gil. As much as Tarvek liked Seffie he didn’t trust her. She was far too talented for trust. Gil seemed unaware of this concept his face was screwing up in a mixture of disgust and confusion.

“Uggh. No wonder her and Colette haven’t done anything. If Seffie’s busy trying to woo every man in Paris.”

There were so many problems with that statement, but none Tatiana was in a position to point out. Gil was so stupid about these things. He didn’t understand how romance worked outside cheap novels. Which was why he moved through his dance hall girls with astonishing speed, because that was the kind of thing the hero of a tawdry adventure novel did. It meant of course that Gil was extra oblivious to Tarvek’s feelings. The benefits of religious censure. Of course, such things had never been censored in Paris and the Baron, for all his faults, had decriminalized sodomy. Still it was one thing to partake in an activity and another to publish it in a book. The books existed of course, the Immortal Library had a rather extensive collection, but Gil was unlikely to encounter one. 

Tarvek offered Gil a shrug in response, Tatiana would only be distantly aware of the Colette and Seffie dance. She had only met Seffie a few minutes earlier after all.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Gil asked again giving a meaningful tilt to his brow.

“Of course.” Tarve responded entwing himself back around Gil’s arm.

“Alright.” Gil said sounding unsure, “I suppose we should go find Colette.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Tarvek agreed trying not to let his relief show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will continue to be sporadic, I'm trying to devote more time to my OWs in the hopes of maybe finishing and publishing one.


	3. An Adventuress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarvek and Gil attempt to unravel the mystery and come to the same conclusion. Unfortunately for them its the wrong one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took forever to write. Fortunately it is stupidly long to compensate.

Tarvek was subdued after the encounter in the alley. Gil worried at that. Seffie hadn’t acted like she’d realized Tatiana was really Tarvek. Still, if anyone was capable of hiding such a realization it was Seffie. Gil was worried too, Seffie’s soiree wasn’t a soiree but a ball. That would be a lot of people who Tarvek was acquainted with he’d have to fool. The disguise held up well, Martellus had definitely not seen through it. Still, there was a very good chance that whomever was trying to kill Tarvek would be there. That would make attending a risk, but there was absolutely no reason Tatiana wouldn’t attend, so it was a risk Tarvek was going to have to take.

Gil didn’t bother maintaining the illusion of giving a tour as they made their way to the Voltaire Chateau. In fact as soon as they got far enough away from where they’d spoken to Seffie and Martellus, Gil waved down a cab. The cabbie looked a little unsure about ferrying them to the Voltaire chateau, but Gil dumped the payment into the cabbies hand plus a hefty tip and that seemed to convince him. Gil made a habit of carrying money on him instead of simply billing everything straight to the bank. Mostly, because the staff in finer establishments didn’t believe he actually had the funds to settle any of his bills otherwise. It came in handy more often than one might expect.

Gil settled into the cab after that sitting down across from Tarvek. They didn’t speak at first instead awkwardly looking at everything but each other. Tarvek turned his attention out the window, and Gil turned his attention onto Tarvek’s dress. It was a dark purple color and rather simple for Tarvek’s tastes. It had light maroon lining around the edges, but that was about it for decoration. Usually Tarvek’s fashion taste was a delicate balance between ostentatious presentation and understated elegance. It was that balance that had made him something of a fashion icon. It was strange to see him wearing something so simple.

The quiet was awkward and Gil searched desperately for something to say. In the privacy of the carriage he could ask about the disguise, and he wanted to. He hesitated though there was something in Tarvek’s expression as he looked out the window that made Gil wary of saying anything that might start a fight. Gil could already see how the conversation would go, he would say something that would come across as mocking over Tarvek’s decision to dress as a woman, Tarvek would get defensive and take a pot shot at Gil’s lack of parents, Gil would overreact to cover up the fact that the shot had missed, then Tarvek would be angry about the whole thing for the next few days.

Instead Gil said, “How long will you be in Paris?” code for  _ how long will you be using this disguise _ .

“Not long, but I haven’t bought a ticket home yet.” Tarvek answers looking at his lap instead of Gil, “It depends on how welcoming Paris is.”

Until the mystery is solved then, “Paris is great, but I wouldn’t call it welcoming.”

_ Be careful _ .

“Oh I don’t know everyone’s been so friendly so far.”

_ There are a lot of suspects _ .

“I can introduce you to more friendly people if you’d like.”

_ I can help narrow down the list. _

Tarvek smiled slightly, “You’ve already been so kind, I couldn’t possibly ask any more of you.”

_ Stay out of it. _

Gil frowned slightly frustrated, “I’ve already promised to look after you, it would be no inconvenience at all.”

_ Remember our bet? _

“You’re too kind, Monsieur Holzfaller.”

_ This conversation is over. _

“The offer stands.” Gil said meeting Tarvek’s eyes for the first time in the conversation.

_ I’m going to help anyway. _

“If only everyone in Paris was as welcoming as you Monsieur Holzfaller.”

_ You’re going to make a mess. _

“I don’t think Paris could handle more than one of me.”

_ I’ve solved plenty of problems, I can solve yours too. _

“No I don’t think it could.”

Tarvek was smiling at Gil so softly, that Gil got distracted from their secondary conversation. He found himself instead smiling back like they were eight years old and sharing a secret again. Gil almost reached across the carriage to jab Tarvek on the shoulder, to laugh as he would if anyone else had made the comment. His hand even raised to make the move, but as he did Tarvek looked suddenly embarrassed and turned away again. Gil’s hand fell listlessly into his lap. The silence hung again, but it was less anxious than before. 

Eventually they arrived at the Voltaire Chateau. The cabbie paused at the gate and opened the privacy screen to address them,

“Ah, who should I say is arriving?”

“Gilgamesh Holzfaller” Gil answered.

The cabbie passed a look to Tatiana, but shrugged and turned to address the gate guard, “Gilgamesh Holzfaller and his lady.”

Gil smirked at that and Tarvek covered his face with one gloved hand. He didn’t correct the cabbie though, which meant Gil had been correct to avoid using his fake name. Colette would know it was Tarvek with him. The gate guard opened the gate and let the cab through, so it didn’t really matter. Colette didn’t meet them at the door, but the Voltaire who opened it recognized Gil and waved them through with a comment about treating this lady better than the last one. 

Gil protested that that was not at all what happened, but the Voltaire had already walked away. Behind him Tarvek was muffling laughter behind his hands, amused at Gil’s embarrassment. He was having way too much fun with this bit. Especially when Gil was getting embarrassed over it. They found Colette in her room, she was sorting through a pile of clothing the results of which were strewn across her sitting room. Tarvek walked over and plucked a discarded dress up to examine it.

“Spring cleaning?’ Gil asked as he entered.

“Ah, cherie.” Colette said coming over to greet him, “Did you enjoy your tour?”

“Tatiana is perfectly charming.” Gil said trying to convey with his face alone that he wanted to know what she was up to, “We had a run in with Princess Xersephina.”

“Oh?” Colette said sounding unsurprised though she did switch her attention to Tarvek, “And how did that go?”

“Her highness invited us to a  _ soiree _ ” Tarvek said the word in a way that conveyed that he was very aware that it was not a soiree.

“Seffie is a dear friend and I asked her to invite you as a favor to me. Seffie’s party is sure to be one of the events of the season. Anyone who is anyone will be there. It’ll be good for you to attend.”

“That was terribly kind of you.” Tarvek said in a way that said very clearly he disapproved of whatever Colette was scheming.

“It was wasn’t it.” Colette said returning her attention to her sorting, “You will be attending as well won’t you Gil?”

“Yes,” Gil responded morosely flinging himself into one of the few uncovered chairs.

“Perfect, save a dance for dear Tatiana won’t you?” Colette said holding up a vest and examining it.

“Of course.” said Gil glaring at Colette.

“What are you doing my dear?” Tarvek said changing the subject.

“Finding you something to wear. We didn’t buy you anything appropriate for a ball and we don’t have time to commission something new.” Colette said as she held up a corset consideringly.

Gil tried to picture the garment on Tarvek. It looked like it wouldn’t fit, it seemed so small. But if it did, would it make Tarvek look slimmer or would it just appear awkward. Gil spent maybe too long thinking about that, because he lost track of the surrounding conversation. He was brought back into reality by a bundle of cloth impacting him in the face.

“What?” Gil said startling upright.

“Honestly, Gil pay attention” Colette said, “Now what do you think?” she gestured behind her.

Colette stepped out of the way to reveal Tarvek behind her in a red silk dress lined with black lace. The dress was almost inappropriately low cut revealing Tarvek’s sharp collarbones. A matching black lace choker was wrapped around Tarvek’s neck, drawing one’s attention to his collarbone. The layering of lace hid the top of Tarvek’s false breasts mostly from view, enough to keep one from being able to tell they were fake. The dress did a very good job of making Tarvek look like he had a narrow waist and wide hips. Gil found his gaze catching on Tarvek’s bare shoulders where the dress wrapped around his biceps instead.

Gil had the absurd thought that every woman ever was using the same deceptive tricks and none of them actually looked the way he thought they did. He dismissed it almost immediately, Bang’s friends were generally averse to wearing more clothing then strictly necessary. It was just disorientating to see Tarvek’s face on a body that was distinctly not Tarvek’s. Gil found he didn’t like it. He kept looking for the parts underneath the disguise that were Tarvek.

“Well?” Colette asked.

“Uh, It’s nice I guess?” Gil said.

“You guess?” Colette answered frustratingly.

“I don’t know, I’m not exactly an expert on fashion.” Gil answered defensively.

Colette made an annoyed growling noise.

“I think it’s a bit too much.” Tarvek said fiddling with the skirt.

“It’s not too much,” Colette said, “I’m just not sure red is your color.”

“Red is definitely the right color.” Gil said with a smirk.

“Well then, that’s settled.” Colette said sounding suddenly chipper, “Now what are you going to wear Gil?”

“Oh no. I’m going to the party, but I refuse to let you” he passed an accusing finger between both of them, “dress me.”

Colette looked like she was going to protest, but Tarvek intervened.

“I think we’ve stolen enough of Monsieur Holzfaller’s time today.”

Colette and Tarvek shared a silent conversation, where Tarvek convinced Colette to toss Gil out probably so they could have a conversation about their plans. Gil waited patiently hoping Colette would convince Tarvek to let him in on their scheming. Unfortunately for him tarvek won the argument and Colette turned back to Gil.

“Yes of course, we won’t hold you captive with fashion questions anymore. You’re free to go Gil.”

“I don’t mind.” Gil said.

“That’s code for its girl talk time now scram.” Colette whacked him with the petticoat in her hand.

“Fine.” Gil said standing up, “I know when I’m not wanted.”

Colette kissed him goodbye and just to get one last stab in, Gil took Tarvek’s hand and kissed it again as he left. This time Tarvek managed to actually react. He pulled his hand quickly from Gil’s grip and stepping away, playing the perfect picture of an embarrassed young lady. Gil just smiled brightly and bowed his way out. He thought about sneaking back in to spy on them, but if Colette caught him at it she’d be furious. Colette angry was a truly terrifying sight to behold. Instead, Gil goes home its been a long time since he’d last slept and if he’s going to unravel a scheme, from the best schemer he knows ,he’ll need to be thinking clearly.

Gil went home pondering what Tarvek and Colette could be up to. He knew the bare bones of what they were doing, hiding Tarvek while still allowing him to investigate. There had to be more to it than that though, there were always layers to the scheming with those two. They could’ve just as easily disguised Tarvek as a different man, passing him as a poor bohemian would be just as unexpected as disguising him as a woman. Gil was too tired to suss it all out. So, instead he retreated to his apartment and face planted his pillow. Despite the thoughts swirling in his head, Gil fell asleep almost instantly.

One long nap, a dinner bought from a street vendor, and a wild ride on the new intercity train system found Gil sitting in a bar near the university, at the weekly meeting of one of the five cryptology societies Gil was a member of. The meeting found the group of five men bent over a codex that Joubert claimed had been recovered from the Vatican. No one believed his claim, but the codex’s encryption was complicated enough that they didn’t complain too much. 

This cryptology club cared more about a good challenge, then decrypting a famous or otherwise useful encryption. Which was perhaps why it was one of the few that both Gil and Tarvek were members of. Their combined decrypting skill had stopped them from implementing the ban that most university clubs had implemented, in which only Gil or Tarvek could be in the club the first one to show up to a meeting got in, the other was shit out of luck. That had started quite a few fights between them, when one beat the other to joining a club, never mind the fact that they were both in far more clubs then they should’ve been already.

The definitely not from the Vatican codex absorbed the attention of the club for the two hours it took for them to decode one of the more simplistic pages. The page it turned out, was a recipe for beef stew. The discovery of which resulted in a chorus of groaning from the group, who, despite the fact that they didn’t believe the codex was from the Vatican, had at least been holding out hope that the contents would be interesting. Despite the disappointing result they cheered their success and Joubert bought the club a victory round.

Gil accepted the glass of absinthe Joubert handed him, but otherwise didn’t join in on the celebrations. Instead he bent over the codex and decrypted the rest of the beef stew recipe. There was something about the recipe that was off. Gil wasn’t a cook by any means, but he had spent a lot of time in the kitchens on grease trap duty. He had some idea about how food went from an unappetizing shipment of raw vegetables and meat into delicious stew. He was pretty sure that the amount of salt the recipe included was definitely not enough salt.

Joubert settled down next to him once all the drinks had been handed out, “Going to decode the whole book, Holzfaller?”

“Maybe.” Gil said scratching out some more notes on the pile of paper next to him.

“I feel as if I should make some disparaging comment on your dog like stubbornness, but my wit would not do it justice.” Joubert commented idly.

Gil looked up from the codex in confusion, “Uh, why?”

“Oh you know, in honor of his highness. Seeing as he’s absent.”

Gil made a face, he’d managed to mostly forget about the Tarvek problem with the distraction of the codex. It seemed he was to be repeatedly reminded of it.

“Where is Prince Tarvek anyways? He’s never missed a meeting before.” Joubert continued.

“How should I know?” Gil asked trying not to show the guilt on his face. 

“You guys are best friends aren’t you? I’d figured he’d have told you if he was sick or busy or something.” 

“What?” Gil practically shouted he quieted down when the other patrons of the bar turned to stare at him, the other club members ignored his outburst out of habit, “We’re not friends.” Gil finished petulantly.

“Uh huh. Sure Holzfaller, it’s not like you spend more time with him than anyone else, except maybe Zola and that pirate. But women aren’t quite the same thing.”

"You’ve lost me.” Gil said.

Joubert laughed, “Sure I have Holzfaller.” He patted Gil on the back, “Let his highness know that his presence is sorely missed.” Joubert stood up, “Hang on to the codex if you like, I haven’t got any need for a cookbook.”

“Thanks.” Gil said before returning his attention to the codex.

He couldn’t focus though, the secret of the salt in the recipe escaped him. Gil turned his attention to the rest of the codex. With the encryption broken it didn’t require too much thought to decrypt the remainder of the codex. It allowed Gil’s mind to wander as he worked. Everything kept coming back to Tarvek, sometimes it felt like his entire life revolved around the pompous fop. It was Tarvek that led Gil to his Father and even to his spark. Then the second Gil gets his freedom, there Tarvek is again. 

The codex, eventually revealed itself to contain even more recipes, none of which Gil thought would result in anything actually edible. The recipes were definitely another layer of code, but he didn’t have the focus right then and there to suss it out. His thoughts kept drifting back to Tarvek. Someone was trying to kill him. The obvious suspects were, of course, his family. The Valois clan treated succession wars as, fun after dinner activities. They were motivated primarily by political maneuvering and a complex set of inheritance laws. The second of which was particularly difficult to suss out, because their genealogy was a confusing maze of lineages and was also a closely guarded secret. They took the fifty families system to the next level.

Gil had first learned about the complexities of Tarvek’s family from Tarvek himself. His explanations though were veiled in metaphors designed to make Gil laugh and a childish idealism. Young Gil had some idea that Tarvek was very important, because he was a prince and that that importance was something other people were willing to kill him for. Little Gil though had thought that the Baron’s work would eliminate the necessity of such things, by stopping all the bad guys. The Gil that had been best friends with Tarvek had been terribly naive. 

His father had explained it to him that fateful day, how the Valois clan operated. It was all pretty smiles, charming personalities and knives in your back. There was no method to underhanded to employ, no piece too precious to sacrifice, all for just a little more power, or land or money. Sometimes they killed each other just to prove they could. Despite this, the Valois clan still answered to its leader, Tarvek’s grandfather. Though Gil’s father claimed the real power was Tarvek’s grandmother, the Princess Terabithia. 

As far as Gil could tell the Princess Terabithia was fond of Tarvek, as much as she was fond of anyone. She wouldn’t officially sanction his death unless he’d done something that would risk toppling the balance of power. That was a possibility, but Tarvek was cleverer then that. He wouldn’t make a move like that without preparing to counter his grandparents. Besides Tarvek didn’t know who was after him, if he’d made a move that prompted the attack he would’ve been prepared for it. That meant that whomever was trying to eliminate Tarvek was making their own move. Gil knew who all the major players were in the Valois clan, but they would’ve been the first ones Tarvek suspected. If he was stumped that meant it was someone he wouldn’t expect.

The Empire hadn’t annexed all of the territory controlled by the Valois family yet. The Sturmvoraus holdings had been the first Valois claim to fall under the power of the Empire. Its proximity to Wulfenbach, and the fact that the castle was a fortress that had held up against the Heterodyne forces meant if the Valois clan, or the fifty families as a united group, were going to make a play against the empire it would’ve been then in its infancy. Instead, Tarvek’s father had allied with the empire without any pressure from the Baron. There was a chance that that decision had been very disappointing to a number of powerful people.

If that were the case they would’ve made a move against the Empire early on. Vengeance this late didn’t make sense. Unless they’d just been annexed, but if then, why move against Tarvek not Willhelm? Except of course, Tarvek was an easier target. Wilhelm never left Sturmhalten, but Tarvek was running around Paris. He was a much easier target. Still, it was an unlikely motivation. More likely, someone was making a power play and they were starting at the top. 

Gil stood up tucking the codex under his arm and with a wave to the other club members left the pub. He had a pile of files on the big players in Parisian high society underneath the bed in his apartment. He’d need to consult it if he wanted to figure out who was trying to kill Tarvek. If he knew who was trying to kill Tarvek, he’d figure out the key to Tarvek and Colette’s scheme, and also show up the weasley bastard. Gil had access to information Tarvek didn’t. That would be his key to solving the mystery. 

Gil kept turning the thought over and over in his head. What reason would someone have to kill Tarvek? If Tarvek died most of his inheritance would pass on to his sister Anveka before it went to one of his cousins. Sturmhalten could pass to a female heir, it wasn’t an entitled estate. So if this was about succession the way everything in Tarvek’s family was, there had to be something else he stood to inherit that would pass to someone else instead of Anveka upon his death. Something that could only pass to a male heir.

Alternatively, this could be a personal grudge. Tarvek was always making moves to undermine the members of his family he saw as unworthy. It was just another mark in the column of why Tarvek was untrustworthy. Nevermind that Gil tended to agree that those particular cousins didn’t deserve their birthright. That would end up putting Gil on a philosophical thought track that leads to the inevitable conclusion that Gil didn’t deserve his birthright. That of course, was an unnecessarily stressful endeavor, because there was absolutely no way his father would die and let anyone else run the empire.

This could be an action from someone who had been thwarted by Tarvek. Fortunately, Gil tended to keep very good track of who Tarvek was actively working against at any given point. He wasn’t confident that he caught every scheme Tarvek was involved in, but he caught most of them. Tarvek had a particular grudge against his cousin Leopolod, but Leopold was a little too important to make moves directly against, so Tarvek had been undermining his allies systematically. While it was possible Leopold was responsible, Gil found it odd that he would use someone other than a smoke knight. 

That was the real key to who was trying to kill Tarvek, the assassin or assassins themselves. Whomever was going after Tarvek was going through his smoke knights efficiently. Beating a smoke knight in a city, without making the kind of fuss that would directly draw the Master’s attention was incredibly difficult. These assassins had killed multiple smoke knights, but hadn’t managed to kill Tarvek. So, whomever was doing it was just good enough to quietly kill a smoke knight, but doing so cost them enough that they weren’t able to follow through. That put the assassins above most assassins’ skill level, but somewhere below Bang’s.

A young jager would be able to take out a smoke knight, but they’d have trouble doing it. Of course, there weren’t any jagers just wandering around Paris. If there were, Gil would almost certainly be dragged in front of the Master to explain why. Besides, Jagers didn’t do subtle. The librarians were good enough to take out smoke knights, but they tended not to go for lethal options, and besides if the Library was going to assassinate someone they would try to kill Gil long before they tried to kill Tarvek.

There were many assassins guilds and private contractors operating within Paris. Most of them weren’t good enough to take out smoke knights. The ones who advertised that they were, found themselves getting wiped out in highly suspicious explosions. Of course, Gil had a slightly better list of whom might actually be capable of such a thing, but its accuracy was a little questionable. It was gathered mostly by hearsay and a tentative kill connection to the various guilds and individual assassins. Anyone who was too obviously capable of undermining the personal assassins of the most powerful of the fifty families wasn’t the safest business to be in.

Gil was already mentally making a list of resources someone would need to hire the right assassins, or to already have a talented enough assassin on retainer, by the time he dug his pile of notes out its hiding place. He cross referenced that list against his notes on Sturmvoraus’s activites. This allowed Gil to narrow it down to five likely candidates. He picked the one that had the highest threat ranking from his father’s files and set out to do some more investigating.

Half an hour later, found Gil outside one of the stately manors in the second classiest neighborhood in Paris. It was all the way out in the suburbs which made sneaking inside a little more challenging. The subterranean tunnels didn’t run nearly as consistently beneath the suburbs as it did the city proper. Which meant Gil had to make an overland entry which was remarkably more tricky. That being said, the estate was old enough that the mechanical security systems were fairly obvious, which made it easier to locate the gaps in the perimeter.

Gil found the weakest point, deployed some magnets to scramble the systems and scaled the wall. Of course the wall was only the first step. Crossing the lawn would be trickier, it was probably mined. Gil was eyeing the large expanse of grass when he noticed a figure moving quickly and silently across the lawn. No stealth cloak, so it wasn’t a smoke knight. Whomever they were ,they were very familiar with the manor’s security system judging by the speed they were moving at.

That was interesting. It also made things a lot easier for Gil. He could simply shadow the other trespasser to get past the security, instead of wasting time figuring out how it worked. Gil hurried to drop from the wall. He hadn’t seen the figures initial entrance into the yard, but he could make an educated guess based on what he could see of the security, the figures current movements, and his experience breaking into places. Gil avoided the patches of grass that seemed a little off, noticed the decorative stones the figure hopped onto, and he matched their zig zagging path. 

In this way Gil traversed the yard without activating any security. He moved faster than the shadowy figure did, and had to be careful not to gain too much on them and risk being discovered in the middle of the lawn. Gil realized about three quarters of his way to the manor proper that he was going to have to confront the other intruder. That would probably involve the kind of quiet fighting, Gil was very, very bad at. He could practically hear a voice snarking in the back of his head about how he never properly thought things through, and wouldn’t know subtlety if it bought out an ad on the side of a bottle of absinthe. 

Gil had no idea what he was going to do when the inevitable confrontation came about. It would depend heavily on how violent the other trespasser was. Gil would rather not kill them if he didn’t have to, but if they were an assassin he probably wouldn’t have much of a choice. Gil suddenly, fiercely missed Bang. Despite her name and her proclivity for overwhelming firepower and murderous enthusiasm, Bang could actually do subtle. She preferred her enemies to know she was coming and thus, be filled with the requisite terror prior to their deaths, but when it was necessary, she could be stealthy.

The other intruder entered the building through a window, they shut it behind them, but didn’t lock it. Probably preserving it as an exit option. Which meant Gil didn’t have to find his own entrance either. Very helpful of the other trespasser. Gil waited a whole two minutes, he pulled out his watch to make sure he wasn’t underestimating the time out of anxiety. Then he slid open the window and climbed through. 

In hindsight, Gil should’ve maybe checked the room first. He barely managed to dodge the blunt weapon swung at his head. That, he only managed to do, because the attacker had let out a harsh breath on the upswing. Gil moved quickly into the attacker, grabbing them about the throat and shoving them into the wall. The attacker managed to keep a grip on the weapon, and Gil was about to twist it out of their hand when he realizes who exactly he had pinned against the wall. He let go out of surprise more than intent.

“What are you doing here?” Gil asked

Tarvek, because of course it was Tarvek, glared back at Gil. It wasn’t the glare that he reserved specifically for Gil, but one that looked rather more petulant than normal. The expression annoyed Gil, and he glared right back. Tarvek was in absolutely no position to do something as ridiculous as break into the house of someone who was potentially trying to kill him. Especially when that threat had gotten dire enough to necessitate a long term disguise. 

“I am investigating. What are you doing Monsieur Holzfaller?”

Tarvek was still maintaining the Tatiana character. He was dressed in an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a Trewlany Thorpe novel. Scandalously short dress, utilitarian corset with pouches for supplies, practical boots. Which was odd, because every actual adventuress Gil had ever met, most of which Tarvek had also met, wore pants. Tarvek was dressed like an adventuress in a play rather than a real one.

“Investigating what exactly?” Gil asked, keeping Tarvek pinned against the wall, this time by his arms rather than his throat.

“I seem to be the only one answering questions.” Tarvek responded his tone sharp, “and honestly I thought you were a gentleman, yet here you are assaulting a lady alone, at night.”

Gil released Tarvek and stepped back embarrassed, then realised Tarvek had tricked him. He turned to slam him back up against the wall, but Tarvek had already weaseled out and around him. Gil spun to face Tarvek again, effectively putting his back to the wall instead. Tarvek didn’t press his advantage though, not that it would’ve done him much good. Tarvek was sneaky and given enough time and planning he could destroy Gil, but in a fair fight he was useless. In the shoes he was currently wearing he wouldn’t even put up a fight. 

“Oh come off it.” Gil grumbled, “Why are you here?” 

Tarvek let out a melodramatic sigh and then dug into one of his corset pouches to produce a few pieces of paper. He handed them over to Gil. Gil took them rather surprised it had been that easy to persuade Tarvek. He frowned at first Tarvek, then the papers suspicious. Tarvek meandered over to a bookshelf unconcerned with Gil’s suspicion, it was only when he did, that Gil noticed that whatever room they were in was some sort of study. How terribly convenient.

The papers, it turned out, were from the Palais Garnier. The weasel must’ve slipped them out some time after the debacle with the closet. They, in a roundabout way, pointed the arrows in the same direction Gil’s investigation had. He didn’t like it. That was too obvious. The Duke had a lot to gain from Tarvek’s death. He was the heir to a few minor lands and titles, that would’ve passed to Tarvek, but not Anveka upon their father’s death. Additionally, he was trying to marry his son to a princess of one of the other fifty families, who was decidedly determined to win Tarvek’s hand. Not that it was likely she would, the poor girl was a perfect little doll with nary an original thought in her head. Tarvek would never stoop to marry her.

To also have the Duke moving to undermine a pro-empire opera? That was a little too much, too obvious a trail to follow. Someone wanted Tarvek’s assassination to be tracked here. The opera files made it seem like Tarvek was in on the whole Palais Garnier fiasco. Of course, Gil knew he wasn’t. He thought back to the assassin at the opera. They’d been sloppy, not up to taking out a smoke knight. A red herring perhaps? This was too twisty and convoluted, Gil usually solved problems by walking into plans mid execution. Figuring them out wasn’t his expertise. Fortunately it was Tarvek’s.

  
  


Tarvek was trying very, very hard not to panic. He’d known someone was following him halfway across the yard. His hope had been that whomever it was, was working for the culprit. That they were trying to stop anyone from finding out what had really been going on at the Opera. Mainly a bait and switch to keep Tweedle’s division of the Knights of Jove distracted, while his division quietly began to infiltrate the Parisian arts. Perfectly placed to drum up public support, once Tarvek enacted his plan. That would have been a nice in, to figure out who was the traitor in his ranks. 

Except, it had been Holzfaller following him. Which meant the Duke had been the red herring and Tarvek had gone and reeled him in anyway. It was some condolence that apparently Gil had fallen for the same trick. Unless of course, Gil had simply been following Tarvek from the beginning. That was decidedly out of character though. Gil had no reason to suspect Tatiana of anything. Tatiana was good friends with Colette, and perfectly charmed by Gil. He should’ve written her off along with every other girl who clung to his arm and made cow eyes at him.

No, even if Gil had been suspicious he would’ve brought those suspicions to Colette first. He was trusting, like that. He had to be here for another reason. The question was what reason. Tarvek wracked his brain. The Master wouldn’t have trusted Gil with any mission that required stealth and subtly, which was clearly what Gil had been attempting by sneaking in alone. Colette didn’t know Tarvek was here, and if she needed something done to the Duke she would’ve gone to Tarvek or Seffie not Gil. One of his other friends would have insisted on tagging along. Besides Tarvek kept tabs on them and while he wasn’t sure of all their loyalties yet, he would know if any of them were involved with his conspiracies.

The only connection Gil had to the Duke was Tarvek, which meant Gil was here because of him. Tarvek remembered Gil promising to catch whomever was trying to kill Tarvek. Part of a silly bet meant to prove Gil was just as clever as Tarvek. He’d hoped Gil would’ve forgotten, that the whole incident and their conversation in the closet had been nothing but another misadventure in the wild life of Gilgamesh Holzfaller. Never mind that it haunted Tarvek’s dreams. Except, apparently not only had Gil remembered, but he was following through. Tarvek felt the world shift beneath his feet.

He distracted himself by perusing the Duke’s library. He had the usual selection of books that every affluent member of Europan society had. The necessary classics, Homer’s Odyssey and Iliad, Newton’s laws of minion management, Shakespeare. There was a selection of more obscure political treatise, and even a few Heterodyne boys novels. Nothing particularly surprising in the collection, about what he’d expect based on his knowledge of the Duke. It was organized poorly. Tarvek could’ve come up with a better cataloging plan in the middle of a fight, thinking of how he would reorganize the library distracted him from Gil who was behind him reading through the papers Tarvek had given him.

They were only a small section of the records Tarvek had taken from the Palais Garnier. They were enough to show Gil why he was here without revealing anything else. Hopefully, Gil would assume Tarvek had gotten them from Colette. He didn’t have a better convenient lie prepared. Not one that would convince Gil, at least. Tarvek turned back around to gauge how convinced Gil was. Gil was giving him an assessing look from over the papers.

“Well?” Tarvek asked.

“Seems the Duke has been up to a lot, or someone wants us to think that.” Gil answered, “You’re the expert where do we look?”

Tarvek narrowed his eyes, that was astute of Gil, “Well I doubt anything of actual importance will be in the desk.”

“Right secret lab.”

“The Duke isn’t a spark there’s probably a safe hidden around here somewhere.”

Tarvek could see the disappointment on Gil’s face at that statement, he had to agree secret labs were much more interesting than safes. They combed the room together, looking for hidden compartments or false doors, or anywhere a safe could be hidden. Gil managed to find two secret liquor stashes in the time it took Tarvek to ensure that all the books were real books and not cleverly hidden levers.

In typical Holzfaller fashion, he proceeded to begin to drink the stashes. With absolutely no regard as to how his inebriated state would make it difficult to leave the manor undetected. Tarvek glared at his back, but Gil didn’t seem to notice. Normally, Tarvek would have already made loud noises about Gil’s behavior, but that would’ve been detrimental to their quest. Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure how Tatiana should react to Gil’s drunken antics. On one hand she was a lady and should be offended by such behavior, on another she was also an adventuress which meant she wouldn’t be a stickler for proper behavior.

Additionally, Tarvek’s observations had shown that women tended to find Gil’s drunken antics charming rather than rude. He had no idea why, but it might have to do with the way Gil got that sideways smile on his face and started acting overly enthusiastic about everything, putting his hands on everyone and wrapping his arms around one’s shoulders and hauling them in for a friendly side hug, or clapping them enthusiastically on the back. It probably had something to do with the fact that most men when drunk got surly and violent, and Gil instead got happy and cuddly. Why anyone would appreciate being manhandled by the brute, he had no idea, but women were strange creatures sometimes. Tarvek certainly knew better from growing up with Anveka then to assume he always knew a woman’s motivations.

For the sake of caution, Tarvek decided his best move was to treat Gil with an air of calm professionalism. Let him wonder if the friendly, flirty, Tatiana had been an act or not. Certainly Gil had met enough girls that batted their eyelashes at him only to turn around and stab him in the back at the first opportunity. Or rather, it was usually the front. The woman who plied their wiles on Gil, tended to be the kind that liked making impassioned speeches in the middle of their betrayals. Which were of course fantastic opportunities for Gil to whip out the heroics and solve whatever disaster the girl had created, and save her from her own machinations, and also to somehow lose his shirt.

Tarvek really hoped this wouldn’t be one of those adventures where Gil lost his shirt. Just as his mind was beginning to contemplate that particularly disastrous possible turn of events his fingers caught on a latch. He’d been running his hands along the ornate carvings decorating the bookshelves, when his fingers caught on the uneven surface. Tarvek did not immediately pull the latch. If this was indeed the hidden safe there would certainly be traps. He neatly removed a trip wire and noticed a strange discoloration on his gloves, probably a contact poison. Other than that Tarvek didn’t notice anything else, though that didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t there. 

“I found it.” Tarvek announced, so Gil would be able to react to any traps he triggered.

Gil crossed the room quickly to hover over Tarvek’s shoulder. The tiny heels of Tarvek’s boots though made him slightly taller though so the looming wasn’t quite as effective as it usually was. Still Gil was hovering uncomfortably close. Tarvek considered elbowing him, but that would distract Gil from dodging any traps. So instead he just attempted to ignore it and activated the latch. The whole section of the shelf folded out to reveal the safe embedded in the wall. 

Tarvek was briefly distracted by how well the hinges had been hidden, so he noticed the trap seconds after Gil did. Which meant that by the time Tarvek realized he should probably duck, Gil was already body slamming him into the ground. It wasn’t a gentle decent, and Tarvek ended up with some of his cleverly hidden devices bruising him in the back as he impacted with the ground. Meanwhile, above their head a projectile wooshed by.

Tarvek blinked up at Gil his spectacles askew. Gil wasn’t looking at him his gaze was focused on the projectile that had nearly skewered them. That was a relief, Tarvek didn’t think he could handle Gil looking at him just then. Instead, he did an inventory making sure everything, particularly the very expensive padding he was wearing was still in place. Thankfully, the structure of the corset had kept it in place, which was a relief. There was no easier give away than losing a boob in a scuffle. Assured Tarvek turned to see what held Gil’s attention. The projectile it turned out had been a steel arrow that was now corroding the books on the far shelf, with some sort of acid.

“The books!” Tarvek cried and tried to shove Gil off of him. 

“Hey.” Gil said shoving back, surprisingly gently, “Leave it, trying to save the books will just make it easier for them to figure out who was here.”

Tarvek glared back at Gil, but stopped trying to scramble to his feet. Gil had a point, which was frustrating. Tarvek tried to calm down by reminding himself that there hadn’t been anything unique on that shelf. No great work was lost to history. It only really helped a little bit. Tarvek hated it when books were ruined. He wanted to yell at Gil, but despite Gil’s less than stellar reputation with the library, it had more to do with the disasters that followed him like a marching band behind its conductor, than because he was careless with his books. He’d have gotten his library card permanently revoked by now, if that had been the case. 

Once Gil was assured Tarvek wouldn’t try to save the books he got to his feet and held out a hand. Tarvek really wanted to slap it away. That feeling had more to do with the fact Tarvek was still upset over the books, then anything Gil had done recently. If he’d been there as himself he might’ve done it anyways. If he’d been there as himself Gil probably would never have offered his hand in the first place. Tarvek worked up a small smile and took Gil’s hand and let him haul Tarvek to his feet. Tarvek helped a little so Gil wouldn’t notice how conspicuously heavy Tarvek was. 

Once Tarvek was on his feet he remembered the discoloration on his gloves, “Gil, wait!”

Gil who had already turned his attention to the safe turned back to Tarvek, “What?”

“There was a contact poison on the lever.”

Gil lifted his bare hand to his face and sniffed. Then licked his hand.

“What are you doing?” Tarvek had to fight to keep his voice quiet.

“Ricin.” Gil said thoughtfully as if he had just tasted a fine wine, “That’s a bit of an extreme choice.”

“It’s deadly,” Tarvek hissed already digging out an antidote.

“Normally yes, but it’s one of the ones I’m immune to.” Gil said conversationally.

Tarvek paused in his scramble to fill a needle with an antidote, to stare at Gil. His first thought was why was Gil immune to Ricin? Then he remembered the rumors that Gil was an experiment of the Baron’s. It made sense that he’d test immunization on someone before employing it on himself. His second thought, was that such immunization was probably why Gil had a cavalier attitude towards lab safety. He was probably used to being immune to most common chemicals. His third thought was that Gil’s general disregard for his own safety might simply be the result of the Baron testing immunizations and other modifications on him.

The realization that Gil’s attitude was simply the result of being incredibly difficult to kill, flipped Tarvek’s entire world on its head. A lot of Gil’s actions Tarvek had interpreted as arrogance, or a view of Tarvek and others as being weak and useless. In reality, Gil had been making calculated decisions in which he was far more likely to survive situations than an ordinary person. He had to run into the burning building or take on the slime monster, because he was more likely to survive than everyone else. 

It didn’t make the decisions any less selfless, Tarvek wouldn’t be fighting slime monsters in the street even if he knew his skin was resistant to their corrosive slime. Gil had always cared about other people though. Tarvek sometimes had to remind himself that others were people and they shouldn’t be used as tools or crushed in one’s grab for power. Tarvek had, as a result ,chalked up at least some of Gil’s actions as bids for attention. Why else would he keep flinging himself into danger? Apparently in a calculated move, or more calculated then Tarvek had ever given him credit for. 

Still, immunization was no excuse for licking known poisons, so after a long enough delay to be slightly awkward Tarvek responded.

“You still shouldn’t  _ lick  _ it.”

Gil shrugged as if the argument were a casual conversation.

“What if it was one you  _ weren’t  _ immune to”, Tarvek pressed.

“That’s unlikely.”

Tarvek stored that nugget away for later. How many poisons was Gil immune to? How many was the Baron immune to? Questions for later. He would have to start keeping track of things Gil stuck into his mouth. Which was just another annoyance on the list that was accumulating in his mind about things to keep track of. 

“But possible.” Tarvek retorted, “Honestly, there are better ways of identifying unknown substances.”

Gil sighed, “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

Tarvek narrowed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. They were currently in the middle of a theft. It wasn’t the best place for a conversation about lab safety and appropriate cautionary measures. Besides, if Tarvek went down that road without proper preparation he would end up sounding too much like himself. Gil was oblivious, not stupid. He’d recognize it if Tarvek rehashed the same argument as Tatiana that they’ve had dozens of times before.

“Fine.” Tarvek relented and returned his attention to the safe. 

The safe was not sparkwork. It was one of the fancy ones you could buy at an exorbitant price from an official retailer. Which meant that not only did Tarvek know all of the remaining booby traps, but he knew the back method the manufacturers used to bypass the combination lock. Some people just couldn’t be bothered to remember the combination to their safe and would ultimately blame the manufacturer. As a result, the manufacturer had to undermine the quality of their product to compensate for their customer’s idiocy.

Tarvek loved it when other people’s stupidity was useful. It was poetic. He jammed a screwdriver into the seam where a small scratch marked the correct spot. Then he twisted and the door of the safe popped off. He smirked and glanced up at Gil, who looked suitably impressed. Tarvek allowed himself to add a bit of flirtatiousness to the smirk. He’d always wanted to play the femme fatale. It seemed like fun.

Gil’s impressed expression morphed into curiosity, and Tarvek returned his attention to the safe. There was some sort of mechanical device in there on top of the papers. Tarvek was curious as well, his fingers itched to investigate. He resisted though, now was hardly the time for a fugue. Tatiana wasn’t a spark and besides letting his defenses down around Gil was dangerous. The last time he’d let himself indulge his spark in GIl’s presence they had ended up destroying a lab, and Tarvek had spent twenty three minutes in which he completely forgot that Gil hated him. 

That sobered his mood. Which made it easier to pluck up the device and pass it back to Gil. He turned his attention instead, to the papers and began rifling through them. The top few were careful bookkeeping records that showed how the Duke was carefully rearranging things to avoid paying all of his taxes to the Empire. Nothing strictly illegal, but there was no guarantee that would stop the Baron from removing the Duke from power if he found out. Useful blackmail, but hardly the clue Tarvek needed.

The other papers detailed the different conspiracies the Duke was involved in including the Palais Garnier. That had been it seemed, exactly what he was supposed to be doing. So he was the red herring, but who had planted him. Tarvek rifled through the rest of the papers. He was aware that the Duke being a red herring might mean someone had been expecting them to come here. With that knowledge he wanted to get out quickly.

He found a paper, a lease on a piece of land in the Carpathians. It was suspiciously far way from the Duke’s holdings. Tarvek stopped to memorize the location, and was about to put all the papers back and clear out when he recognized it. The location was in fact the spot one of the previous Heterodyne’s had used to ambush enemy armies. It was nothing more than a mountain pass, not the land anyone would try to sell let alone buy. Which meant the lease was a fake.

Tarvek carefully pocketed it anyways. This was what he had been supposed to find. He would make sure his enemy thought he’d found it. Then he picked through the rest of the papers carefully. Fake evidence meant this wasn’t the trap. Likely it was a goose chase, something to keep him busy while they tried to pick him off. Or another plot entirely. It took Tarvek awhile, but eventually he recognized the handwriting on one of the documents. It was for the sale of a flock of sheep. Except the handwriting was almost certainly Seffie’s when she was writing with her left hand. 

Tarvek took out a piece of carefully doctored paper and pressed it over the document. He counted slowly in his head, and when he reached one hundred and eighty. He peeled the paper off the document and checked it. The contents of the document had been mirrored perfectly over. Tarvek laid it out flat on the ground at his feet to set and carefully put the papers back just as they found them. Then he turned to face Gil.

Gil had sat down on the carpet and set about dismantling the device. He had a series of parts strewn about him and his pocket multitool in his hand. He wasn’t currently attacking the device, instead he was holding it above his head so he could peer into it. He was gnawing on his lip in thought and twirling the multitool in his hand. He’d caught the moonlight coming in through the windows just right so it streamed across his cheeks and into the device. The effect was magical, Tarvek found himself wishing he could catch the image in oils, which was a ridiculous thought. He wasn’t even a painter.

He knelt there dumbly for a full two minutes just watching before Gil lowered the device and the moment was broken. Gil leaned forward to pick up one of the parts to put it back in before he even noticed Tarvek looking. His expression turned sheepish immediately.

“Sorry, I’m putting it back together.” Gil said.

“What is it?” Tarvek asked digging his hands into the carpet.

“Uh, I’m not entirely sure, I think it’s some sort of pick pocket clank?” Gil said, “it’s got all these grabby arms and can measure weight from a distance.”

“A pick pocket clank?” Tarvek’s mind whirled, torn between figuring out the machine’s mechanisms and figuring out why the Duke would need something like that. He shook his head, both were problems for later.

“Yeah it’s actually pretty neat.” Gil said beginning to bounce a little.

“No.” Tarvek said quickly holding up a hand, “No sparky fun times. We need to get out before we’re caught.”

Gil visibly deflated which made Tarvek feel guilty, which was stupid. This was a terrible spot for a fugue. He let Gil explain the pickpocket clank to him and then they’d be making improvements, and then the entire mansion would be on fire. It would be fun for a bit and then end in horrible disaster with Tarvek looking like the damsel in distress at best and villain at worst, and Gil as the heroic adventurer as always. 

Thankfully, Gil didn’t protest instead he simply finished reassembling the device and passed it over. Tarvek carefully replaced the device back in the safe in the same orientation it was in when he pulled it out. Then he closed the safe and the hidden compartment. Thanks to the arrow, the Duke would know someone was here, but hopefully he wouldn’t know what they found out or what they were looking for. Except, of course for what Tarvek wanted him to think they came for.

“Alright. Time to go.” Tarvek said giving one last mournful look to the dissolving bookshelf before heading towards the window. 

Gil got there first and vaulted through the window in one smooth movement. Tarvek resisted the urge to call him out for being a showoff and carefully maneuvered his way onto the sill. It was a lot more difficult to do in a dress than trousers. Tarvek knew his outfit had been more fashion than practicality, but it had been difficult to resist the opportunity. He looked incredible. He hadn’t planned on anyone actually seeing the outfit, but was inordinately glad that someone had, and that that someone was Gil. Even if the philistine would never appreciate the elegance of the design

When Tarvek had gotten onto the sill, Gil held out his hand. Confused Tarvek took it and Gil helped him off the sil like he would help a lady alight from a carriage. He even added a little gentlemanly bow at the end. Tarvek found himself smiling a stupid silly smile, he almost swallowed it before he remembered he was Tatiana. He let the smile stay and when Gil pulled out of the bow, he startled at it. Just a little bit before he was smiling that ridiculous guileless smile back at him.

Tarvek did have to swallow the stupid giddy feeling that lept inside his chest at the sight. They were still in the middle of a crime technically. It wasn’t the place for Tarvek to indulge his new freedom to flirt with Gil. He forced himself to focus on the lawn again it was a difficult trick to navigate around the death traps and sensors. Gil certainly didn’t know how, he’d simply shadowed Tarvek across the lawn, he’d have to do it again to get back out.

“Ready, Monsieur Holzfaller?” Tarvek asked.

Gil’s face did a weird thing at that, but it settled into his adventure smile, “After you, mademoiselle.”

There was a bit of the familiar challenge in Gil’s voice and Tarvek found himself sprinting across the lawn. It was a wholly unnecessary speed, and even a risky one considering the shoes he was wearing, but he couldn’t resist. Gil sprinted after him and stayed on his heels. It was thrilling almost like being chased, but with none of the fear. It was, for a wonderful moment ,like being children again and running away before they could get caught and dragged back to the school to face the wrath of Von Pinn. 

Then Tarvek was sliding through the secret door in the wall and Gil slid out after him. The both of them stopped to catch their breath next to the wall, and it was nothing like those days. Gil flushed and laughing slightly, was anything but childish. Tarvek swallowed the emotion that surged at that. Tatiana could flirt, but she couldn’t feel the depth of emotion that Tarvek felt. That had to stay buried somewhere deep and hidden, or else Tarvek would fall into a pit of despair that would swallow him whole.

Tarvek needed a distraction fast before the nostalgia overwhelms him. So, he pulls away from the wall and spins around to face Gil properly, putting distance between them in the process.

“Now this has been a delightful divergence, but I have more work to do tonight.” Tarvek said beginning to back away.

Gil narrowed his eyes and his expression fell from easy joy to suspicion. The expression was far more familiar and didn’t cause Tarvek’s stomach to twist up. It was easier when Gil was suspicious of him. Partly, because there was nothing complicated about suspicion, and partly because it didn’t hurt. Gil should be suspicious of Tarvek, he was up to something. It was only when that suspicion morphed into anger or disgust that it hurt. Suspicion was safe, useful even in that it allowed Tarvek to manipulate Gil towards the result he wanted. Like right now.

“I will be taking my leave, good evening Monsieur Holzfaller.” Tarvek dipped a curtsy and spun about.

It was easy enough to jog into the night. Only once he heard the tell tale sound of Gil’s boots thundering after him did Tarvek pick up the pace. He gained just enough distance to turn down an alley and vanish. He watched hidden on a rooftop as Gil searched the alley for him. He even bothered to check the roof tops, which most people didn’t. Gil was good, but he wasn’t good enough to detect a smoke knight. 

Now, Gil would be wary of Tatiana. He would realize that despite the less than practical outfit and the flirting that Tatiana was skilled in espionage. It would explain Tatiana’s friendship with Colette, and it would mean that Tatiana had a  _ purpose  _ to being here in Paris. Things that would hopefully keep Gil distracted. Instead of following Tarvek, and giving away his suspicion he would be hunting up Colette. Maybe checking Tarvek’s backstory. Even following the red herring of the Duke. Meanwhile Tarvek could chase up his actual lead without having to shake a determined Gil off his tail. Giving him a false lead would be the best option. The last thing he needed was to be sniffing around Seffie’s schemes. Tarvek liked his cousin, but that made her more dangerous, not less.

Tarvek perused his copied file curiously as he waited for Gil to give up searching and leave. He needed to know everything he could now. After all, Seffie’s ball was coming up. It would be a fantastic opportunity to ply information from her and any possible co conspirators. Additionally, it would be a good opportunity to sneak into her rooms and rifle through her files. To do that effectively though, Tarvek would have to identify co conspirators and have some idea what he was looking for. There was more going on here then he had initially thought. Seffie, he knew, wouldn’t have him killed. If he was dead then she wouldn’t be able to gloat. Which meant the assassins had to come from someone else who was working for her. Or even against.

Tarvek spent so much energy thinking about the conspiracy he’d stumbled onto, that he almost didn’t notice how suspiciously sober Gil was. He’d spent their time searching the study drinking, but seemed as perfectly sober as he had been when they started. Which meant either that Gil had been faking drinking, or he had a much higher tolerance for alcohol then he let on. With the information Tarvek had already learned that nigh,t he was beginning to suspect the latter. A fact that put a lot of his interactions with drunk Gil under a new light. There was some profound conclusion to be grasped from that, but Tarvek couldn’t quite reach it. 

There would be time to unravel the mystery of Gilgamesh Holzfaller later. He’d spent a decade on it, he wasn’t going to solve it anytime soon. The conspiracy though, did need to be solved, before Tarvek ran out of time for all mysteries. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. Which meant avoiding Gil, until the ball at least. Then he would need to be at his best. That meant Tarvek had a few days to figure out his next few moves. They would have to be good ones if he was going to stay alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry this took forever. First it was Nano, I got to 50k but had somehow managed to only start the actual story and also hate the story by that point. So that was bad. Then Christmas happened and I just lost all motivation to write. But now, I'm working, part-time, but still it seems to have revived my work ethic from whatever lethargic pit it had been wasting away then. Hopefully that means the next chapter will be up soon. I'm super excited to start writing that one, its the part of this sequel that I had planned out first. While this chapter was supposed to be transitional, but somehow simply would not end. Also if any of y'all are reading the Paris Chronicles, that's not going to be updated anytime soon. I'm really sorry but that fic is not as well planned out as I thought it was when I started so a lot of plot needs to still be developed. I'll let you all go now, hopefully you'll be hearing from me soon!


	4. A Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay y'all. I got promoted to full time and suddenly had all my free time eaten up. Then of course quarantine gave it back. So here's the chapter. I've written most of the next one which was originally part of this chapter, but in editing I realized that this chapter really ended earlier. So Next chapter will probably be up very soon.

Gil despised balls, he could tolerate dinners and soirees. Salons could even occasionally be entertaining. Balls though were all formality and debutantes flirting aggressively with him while their mothers glared at him from the sidelines. Gil always felt horribly out of place at them, like he was still that nobody with hand me down clothes and no friends on Castle Wulfenbach. It didn’t help that he was never invited to balls that Tarvek wasn’t also attending. Probably, because Tarvek attended every ball in Paris. He actually liked the things, he got to dress up in fancy clothes and turn up the charm. The mothers didn’t glare at Tarvek when their daughters flirted with him.

Gil usually ended a ball by making a scene of himself. It usually ensured that whomever was hosting the ball wouldn’t make the mistake of inviting him again. That never worked on Princess Xersephina though. Partially, because whatever scene Gil made was usually in someone else’s defense and Seffie at least wanted to seem like she supported such things, and partially because Seffie saw Gil as a particularly useful tool. She could use his presence to entice a busy Colette into coming, or use him to annoy whichever one of her relatives had pissed her off most recently. Gil never realised she was using him until he was already elbow deep into Seffie’s plot and it was too late to pull out.

He should really start ignoring her invitations. Alas, though Colette often insisted he attend her parties and Gil was not dumb enough to disobey an order from Colette. This time though, Gil found he had rather been looking forward to the ball. He was excited to see how Tarvek would handle his little Tatiana show when surrounded by his family and the cream of Parisian society. He also wasn’t sure if Seffie had figured out the disguise or not, which seemed strange. Seffie was certainly more observant than Gil, and she knew Tarvek better. Gil had spent a whole ten minutes agonizing over his outfit. If he showed up properly dressed for once he was certain to throw Tarvek off his game.

In the end he ended up digging a formal suit out of the back of his closet that he had never worn and was unsure as to how it had even gotten there in the first place. The fact that someone else had clearly chosen the outfit for him assured Gil that it was probably actually appropriate for the occasion. It did have a lot of fancy embroidery on it. He really wished he could’ve consulted with Colette first, or even Bang who would at least tell him if he looked ridiculous. Colette though was busy with Tarvek and Bang was busy doing a job for his Father that was apparently more important than babysitting Gil. 

Which was definitely a thing Gil should be concerned about. Usually his father was a little more concerned about the potential chaos Gil could release upon the world. Or the very least protecting his investment. Unfortunately Gil didn’t have time to worry about the Empire, he was sure Bang would kill the people who needed killing plus a few extra for fun and his Father would mop up the mess. Gil had to unravel whatever was going down in Paris.

A particularly difficult task given the fact that Tarvek had cut him out of whatever further scheming he’d been doing. He’d found something in the Duke’s office and he wasn’t sharing. Gil had tried breaking into Tatiana’s apartment and snooping around, but had found nothing. He’d even broken into Tarvek’s old rooms, but most of his things had been packed up and removed. The room gave a very strong impression that Tarvek had left town quickly, which Gil supposed was the point.

Gil had chased down any more leads he could find, but they all ended up being duds. Or worse entirely unrelated schemes that promptly blew up in Gil’s face and needed to be dealt with. It was frustrating work. He’d wasted most of the week. His one saving grace had been that the Master had been rather impressed with his work and he’d even gotten extra credit for some of it. Which was nice.

Especially, since Gil had been completely incapable of paying any attention in his classes. If he wasn’t busy mulling over his latest lead, then someone was bothering him over what had happened to Tarvek. It seemed that the weasel had done a rather good job of charming the more aristocratic portion of their classmates. They all seemed rather put out that he had up and left without telling anyone, and positively sure that Gil must know why. It happened so much that GIl began to suspect that Tarvek had somehow planted the idea in order to further distract Gil. 

In the end, Gil was forced to come to the conclusion that he would have to pry the information from the horse’s mouth. His best opportunity to do so was of course at the ball. Colette had made Gil promise to save Tarvek a dance. While Gil wasn’t an expert in ballroom conspiracies he did know that the dance floor was the best place for a private conversation. Even if someone overheard you, they would only catch segments as they moved past you, that would effectively garble the message.

Dancing with Tarvek would provide the perfect opportunity to turn the thumb screws. Tarvek would be unable to escape until the end of the song without causing a scene. He would have to give Gil something. If Gil added enough flourishes to the dance, flirted hard enough he’d unbalance Tarvek enough to get something useful out of him. Then Gil could win their bet, and save the weasel’s life in the process.

Gil’s plan gave him a boost of confidence as he headed off to the ball. Normally, such things filled him with a mild anxiety. This time though his plan and purpose filled him with a sense of anticipation instead. It actually made the process of eating dinner and waiting for the right time to leave even more tense then they usually were. Gil almost showed up early to the ball, which is to say on time, but resisted because he knew Tarvek would call him a philistine for it. 

Eventually though it was late enough to be considered appropriate if not fashionably late and Gil got in line outside the door to the grand manor house that Tarvek’s grandparents own. Usually when Gil actually bothers to show up to fancy shindigs at least three different people insist on checking his invitation first. This time though none of the servants or guards gave him so much as a second glance. At first, it made Gil suspicious and he watched his back for a knife or a prank or something. 

It wasn’t until a young lady batted her eyes at him and her mother’s mouth didn't pinch in response that Gil figured it out. It’s the outfit, he’s wearing. Gil’s actually dressed appropriately for once. Tarvek had been right when he said clothes mattered, and Gil hated to be facing the proof of that statement. It seemed like lately he was beginning to understand that Tarvek may have a point. Gil had just dipped his toes into the world of aristocratic plotting and already Tarvek’s idiosyncrasies were developing into very justifiable paranoia.

Gil was regretting not reviewing his files before showing up. Now that he was at a party for more than a favor to Colette, or to bother Tarvek he was realising how many of these people he doesn’t know. Another thing that would make him a terrible tyrant, his father would know who everyone was and what they were plotting. Gil could name maybe a fifth of the people there. He was way out of his depth. Fortunately, his plan meant he didn’t actually need to worry about any of the high society vipers, and could instead focus on Tarvek who he did know.

Tarvek would’ve probably come to the party with Colette. Which meant they’d probably arrived to the party on time, rather than fashionably late. Colette didn’t need to be fashionably late, she was already fashionable. Besides Seffie and her were friends, she may have even helped set up. Or helped direct the servents in setting up. All Gil had to do was locate one of the girls in the crowd and he could put his plan into action

*

Seffie was definitely up to something. The more Tarvek found out about it through the less sense it made. Seffie was embedding people systematically throughout the Pax Transylvania's diplomatic corps, and courier services. That was it though, no soldiers, no scientists, no bureaucrats or construction workers. Just the diplomatic corps and the mail service. Which meant that Seffie wasn’t just trying to infiltrate the Empire. She was trying to do something specific, something with the alliances the Pax Transylvania was making.

It also had something to do with Gil. He didn’t know what, but Seffie was having people keep track of everyone Gil interacted with and his level of intimacy with them. Seffie clearly thought Gil was her in with the Empire. For whatever plan she was making. Which made Tarvek angry. He didn’t much care what Seffie was planning, if she was using Gil as her pawn then Tarvek had to stop her. 

Tarvek had never moved directly against Seffie before. He liked her, and she rarely did anything that was so morally corrupt that Tarvek felt obligated to intervene. Plus, the moves she made to support Martellus’s claim was primarily against the Lucrezia contingent of the Knights of Jove, and Tarvek didn’t want to stop that. Up until now Tarvek and Seffie had simply maneuvered around each other. Now Tarvek would have to interfere, and if Seffie so much as suspected he was she would move against him. That could unravel the delicacy of Tarvek’s own plans rather quickly. 

To move carefully enough to not get caught at it, meant Tarvek would have to know exactly what Seffie was trying to accomplish. Which meant he had to search her personal files. Seffie wasn’t dumb, but she was young and she might make the mistake of having any information written down that someone could actually find. She did rely a little too heavily on charm rather than subtly. Besides with the Ball and Tarvek’s own mysterious disappearance she might be busy enough to have gotten careless. 

Tarvek’s best chance of finding out was to find an opportunity to sneak away at the ball and go snooping. Even if he did get caught it would be Tatiana not himself who got blamed. Seffie hadn’t seen through the disguise yet, which meant probably no one would. It was a bet Tarvek was willing to make. He was a careful planner, but he still took chances, carefully calculated chances, but they were rolls of the dice all the same. This one was certainly worth it. 

The ball it seemed would be the key to everything. It had seemed a risky venture when Seffie had initially invited him, but now it was almost convenient. Whatever strange web was being woven to entrap Tarvek was made using the threads of whatever conspiracy Seffie was running. The lynchpin of the whole thing seemed to be Gil. Not an entirely bad choice, Gil was very predictable in his actions. It was an easy task to lead him right into a plot you wanted unraveled or revealed. Tarvek had done it himself plenty of times. That was the only way he risked manipulating Gil though. He was a little naive and a bit obtuse, but he was the strongest spark Tarvek knew. He was willing to bet he was even stronger than the Baron. Which meant that if used too pointedly in a plot you’d find him at your throat instead. 

If Tarvek left Seffie’s plot alone there was a good chance Gil would blunder right through it, shattering her machinations to pieces. But if anyone could entrap Gil it would be Seffie, she knew exactly what she was doing. She could adapt, and when pushed into a corner even change sides on a dime. Not to mention she was a charming young girl, and while a little young even for Gil, he was weak to such things. He would at the very least underestimate her, and be more willing to believe in her innocence or misguidedness then he would with anyone else. 

Fortunately, Seffie had already given Tarvek the perfect opportunity to figure out precisely what she was up to. The ball meant everyone, even the smoke knights would be distracted. Tarvek would be able to slip upstairs at some point and search Seffie’s room.

Unfortunately, Seffie hadn't let him out of her sight since Colette and Tarvek had arrived. Well Tarvek wasn't entirely sure if Seffie or Colette was the actual one dogging him and the other was simply following the other girl. The two had been pressed shoulder to shoulder sharing gossip and snarky comments on the guests. Tarvek after failing to shake the two for five minutes had given up and was busy adding his own commentary on the guest's attire.

He had to be careful though, Seffie was familiar with Tarvek's opinions on fashion and if he was too much himself she might become suspicious. As a result Tarvek found himself defending fashion choices he would've normally been the first to deride. It was a surprisingly entertaining diversion to defend one young ladies decision to wear a bodice made primarily of lace. He had to come up with actual defenses for a rather unfortunate choice.

Seffie was getting rather too into the debate. If Tarvek had needed to distract her for someone else he'd have done a remarkably good job. Unfortunately he was holding the entirety of Seffie's attention. Which meant she was looking directly at Tarvek, when Gil walked into view. He had actually dressed up for once in his life and the result was stunning. Whomever had chosen the waistcoat had an eye for tailoring it emphasized the broadness od Gil's chest while slimming his waist. The coat made Gil look dignified with an almost haughty air. He reminded Tarvek of one of the mysterious nobles in the romances he would never admit to reading. Tarvek wasn’t sure what his face did in reaction to the site, but whatever it was cut off Seffie’s rant about low cut bodices and made her quickly turn around.

Tarvek tried to school his features into something only mildly interested before anyone else noticed. Colette had caught a glimpse of Tarvek’s expression as well and had turned to see the cause. When both women spotted Gil in the crowd they turned back on Tarvek with hungry smirks. Tarvek took a single unconscious step back. 

“Well, well” Seffie said reaching out and hooking Tarvek’s arm with hers dragging him into her side, “Who knew Holzfaller could clean up so nice? He’s certainly never bothered before.”

No, he hadn’t. Gil tended to avoid balls, but he did occasionally show up. When he did he usually made the smallest of efforts, bothering to throw on a coat that was just nice enough that the footmen would have to let him pass. He rarely looked like he belonged at any of the events he attended, let alone eligible. Tarvek wasn’t the only one who had noticed Gil, a flock of young ladies was carefully tracking him across the ball room. Prepared to be in the perfect position to strike once the dancing started. Tarvek tried not to glare at them.

“Yes, I wonder what exactly inspired him this time.” Colette said flanking Tarvek.

“I honestly have no idea.” Tarvek said, which despite the women’s insinuation was the truth.

Gil was up to something, and he was using Tarvek’s methodology to do it. That couldn’t be a good sign. 

“No?” Seffie said, sounding almost murderous in the forced cheer in her voice, Tarvek repressed a shudder, “It couldn’t be that a certain young lady has caught the erstwhile young hero’s eye.”

“I don’t know what you're implying.” Tarvek retorted, but he did. 

Seffie was crazy. Whatever reason had prompted Gil to actually dress properly for once in his life, had nothing to do with Tarvek. It was some unrelated circumstances. Except, as he was preparing his defense Gil caught sight of them, and a bright smile broke out on his face. He waved at them and started making his way determinedly through the crowd.

Tarvek tried to retreat, unfortunately both women had a strong grip on him now, and he was effectively trapped. With their free hands Seffie and Colette waved back at Gil.

“Here he comes now,” Colette said, “Do behave yourself dear. You wouldn’t want to scare him off would you?”  
Tarvek turned to glare at Colette. If he wanted to scare Gil off, all he had to do was be himself. Unfortunately that would be a very bad idea, seeing as how he was in the middle of his grandmother’s ballroom in a skirt and wig. Martellus was lurking around here somewhere plotting on how to twist Tarvek’s sudden departure from Paris to his advantage. If Tarvek was discovered in drag in a ballroom, Martellus’s victory was ensured. This was a very bad idea. 

“Gil!” Colette cried overly cheerful when he approached, “Don’t you look the perfect gentleman.”

GIl frowned down at his chest, and then managed a sheepish smile for Colette, as if he was embarrassed to be appropriately dressed for the ball. 

“Uh, yes well…” Gil looked around a little as if an excuse for his appearance would be embroidered into someone’s coat, when he failed to discover the secret message he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Thank you?”

Tarvek had to swallow the first three sarcastic responses that rose up in him at that. Instead he managed a simple,

“Good evening Monsieur Holzfaller. Glad you could make it.”, he attempted a polite curtsy, but it was rather difficult to manage with both Colette and Seffie still holding him in place.

Gil mouth twitched as he noticed Tarvek was caught, but all he said, “Yes, good evening Mademoiselle Petrov.”

“Delighted you could make it, Gil” Seffie said, emphasizing his name with relish.

Tarvek had the sudden urge to stamp on Seffie’s toes.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Gil said.

Tarvek squinted at Gil, because it sounded as if he actually meant it. He was definitely up to something. Tarvek began to worry that a mad spark would burst up from beneath Grandmother’s perfectly polished marble floor. Unless of course, Gil was still after whatever had brought him to the Duke. Had he found the trail of Seffie’s machinations. Tarvek dismissed the thought as soon as he had it. Gil was clever, but he wasn’t skilled in the kind of back room dealing that would’ve allowed him to catch enough of Seffie’s movements to know she was moving at all. 

“Ah Seffie, there you are,” Martellus intruded himself into their little group with all the delicacy of a calliope. 

“Brother,” Seffie said, in the most neutral of tones.

Martellus noticed Tarvek being held between Colette and Seffie, His eyes tracked from Gil to Tarvek and back again. He frowned.

“Am I interrupting?” He asked, showing the kind of awareness people tended to forget he was capable of. 

Whatever initial answer Seffie had ready was interrupted by the sound of the orchestra striking up. Tarvek saw the change in her decision as suddenly he found his arm free, only to have his hand in Martellus’s. That was a smoke knight maneuver. Whatever Seffie, could be scheming at precisely this moment was hardly worth using that move in the middle of the ballroom, to do anything short of poison someone. 

“Perfecting timing, my dear brother. Do, do the honor of allowing my dear friend Tatiana the first dance.” Seffie said.

Martellus frowned at Seffie for a moment. But it was only a moment, Tweedle trusted Seffie, and he smiled congenially at Tarvek.

“If the lady would do me the honor?”

“With pleasure,” said Tarvek doing his best to sound as if he was flattered.

Tatiana should be flattered. She didn’t know Martellus, and he was a prince, a spark and stupidly wealthy. Also objectively handsome if one liked strong broad shouldered brutes. It would be best if Tatiana could appear charmed. That was perhaps a bit beyond Tarvek’s acting ability though. He could manage polite and intimidated. 

“So, Mademoiselle Petrov.” Martellus began once they were on the dance floor, “My sister tells me you’re from Moscow.”

“Yes,” Tarvek answered easily, his back story would check out even to Martellus’s people, “Colette is an old friend and she invited me to come visit. I must say it is a relief to get away from the cold.” Tarvek managed a smile, “Paris is a fascinating city, so many people from so many different places. But of course you are a local.”

“Not quite.” Martellus answered, turning Tarvek into a spin, “The Blitzengaard holdings are technically to the east in the Carpathians. My sister and I do spend a good deal of our time here in Paris though. Grandfather owns this manor, and he’s always happy to host family.” Martellus offered what he probably thought of as a charming smile, “Paris is the place to be after all.”

“It is isn’t it.” Tarvek said, with perhaps too much honesty.

“Enjoying your stay then?” Martellus.  
“Certainly.” Tarvek answered, “It’s been so nice to see Colette again, and everyone has been very friendly.”

As he spoke, Tarvek caught sight of Seffie spinning by in Gil’s arms. She was laughing at something, and Gil was smiling back at her. As they spun by, Gil’s eyes met Tarvek’s and he winked. Startled, Tarvek turned his attention back to Tweedle. 

“Yes,” Martellus agreed, “Some more friendly than others.”

That had weight to it, but Tarvek honestly had no idea what he was implying. Tarvek should’ve paid more attention to what gossip there was surrounding Tatiana. He would’ve been better prepared for this conversation. He’d been distracted though, and had failed to adequately prepare. Now Tweedle of all people had him on the back foot. 

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, your highness.” Tarvek answered, aiming for coy. 

“I don’t know if you’re being coy, or not Mademoiselle. But either way I feel that as a gentleman, I ought to warn you.” Tweedle was being earnest.

He’d pulled Tarvek slightly closer as he spoke. Tarvek resisted the urge to pull away, it was likely Tweedle was simply trying to prevent them from being overheard. He was after all a fairly competent dancer, even if his lead was a little forceful, so the movement had to be intentional. Still it was closer than Tarvek had ever been to Tweedle before without knives being involved. It made him nervous. 

“I know you’re sweet on Holzfaller.” Tweedle continued.

Tarvek misstepped and landed on Tweedle’s foot entirely unintentionally.

“What? No!” Tarvek said perhaps a little loudly.

“Please, Mademoiselle, I have eyes. I understand too, why a young lady such as yourself may be attracted, he does have his charms. But he is a classless degenerate, who spends his time with women of loose morals. If you understand my meaning. He is amused by you know, but he will quickly become disinterested and move on. It would be better if you did not waste your affections on one so fickle.”

Tarvek understood perfectly well. He’d said the same things about Gil himself. Somehow though it was infuriating to hear those things from Tweedle of all people. 

“I say, your highness, that is a very bold accusation to make. Monsieur Holzfaller has been nothing but perfectly courteous. I know my acquaintance is perhaps not as long as your’s may be, but I dare say I have a fair understanding of his character.”  
Tarvek had no idea what he was doing. He just couldn’t listen to Martellus disparage Gil’s character, even if his accusations were accurate. Besides, Tarvek was hardly some innocent girl who needed to be warned off dangerous men. He knew exactly what he was getting into by flirting with Gil. Tarvek knew nothing could ever come of it, and he was only straining his already bruised and battered heart. That was his idiotic mistake to make, and he didn’t need Tweedle looking after him. 

Tweedle just sighed in reaction to Tarvek’s outburst, “I expected as much. He tends to have that effect on people. I only wished to save you a future heartbreak. “

Tarvek was again unsure how to react to Tweedle so he said nothing. Martellus, seemed to have said his part and finished. So they awkwardly finished off the dance in a tense silence. When the dance ended, Martellus lead Tarvek back to the edge of the dancefloor where Colette was speaking to one of her numerous siblings. Matellus quickly engaged the Voltaire in an idle chat about his dogs, leaving Colette and Tarvek together.

“Enjoy your dance? I bet you can’t wait to tell your sisters you danced with an actual prince!’ Colette said smiling far too brightly.

Tarvek glared at her, “Yes, it was certainly something to write home about.”

Before Colette could tease Tarvek further, Seffie and Gil returned. 

“Well that was delightful, thank you Gil” Seffie said, “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to see to my guests. Do remember what we spoke about, darling.” Seffie said with a pat on Gil’s shoulders.

Seffie then promptly sashayed off into the crowd. Gil frowned after her. 

“What on Earth did you two talk about?” Colette asked.

“Nothing of consequence.” Gil said quickly, then he abruptly bowed, “Would you do the honor of allowing me the next dance, Tatiana?” 

Tarvek startled. Gil was clearly deflecting. He did not want to tell Colette about whatever Seffie had said to him. He was probably hoping that Tatiana would be too polite to ask. Unfortunately, for Gil he had just trapped himself into three minutes in which Tarvek could turn the thumb screws.

"I would be delighted." Tarvek answered.

Gil smiled bright and sharp, and a small thrill went through Tarvek's spine in response. The ballroom was Tarvek's stage not Gil's but that didn't mean it would be easy. Gil was a great opponent; he was clever and a quick learner and always surprising Tarvek with sudden insights. More than that though challenging Gil on anything was low risk. There were plenty of things Tarvek never wanted Gil to learn about him, but it was never quite life or death stakes the way it was with his family. Tarvek could afford to lose against Gil, which allowed the challenge to be more interesting, Tarvek could afford to gamble on these odds.

Gil lead Tarvek onto the dance floor and they got into position the moments before the music started up felt like the salut before a fencing match. A moment to size your opponent up before the match began. Then the orchestra struck up a waltz and Gil's hands pressed gently into the small of Tarvek's back and Tarvek realized he had miscalculated horribly. He'd forgotten that for all his bluntness and brute strength that Gil was graceful. He was a magnificent dancer and his lead felt so natural that Tarvek was certain he would be able to dance with his eyes closed and just let Gil direct him across the dance floor by the press of his hands.

Dancing had always been for Tarvek just another type of fight. But there was a reason this was the method by which people choose their mates. There was an intimacy to it, one exaggerated by the slow careful moves of the waltz by the closeness one spent the entire dance with their partner. An intimacy that for Tarvek, whose heart had already been broken, was a dangerous ray of hope. Dancing with Gil had never before been a possibility so Tarvek had never properly prepared for it, and now it was much too late. Tarvek was already in Gil's arms and being swept gracefully across the dance floor.

"So. Ta-ti-an-a." Gil began his attack putting a strange emphasis on Tarvek pseudonym, "You've been quite the busy young lady since your arrival to Paris.”

That comment was loaded with weight.

“I’m making the most of my time.” Tarvek responded.

Gil’s smile stretched, and he guided Tarvek into a spin. His skirt swirled around his legs in a way that was glorious for a moment. Then Tarvek spun back in and Gil caught him, and for a moment it was like an embrace. Then they moved into the next step of the dance and distance slid between them again, but not enough. 

“Day and night. Rob any more Dukes?”

“Destroy any more book shelves?” Tarvek retorted.

“That was not my fault! The trap dissolved the book shelf!”Gil defended angry and then narrowed his eyes, “Which you knew. You’re not distracting me.”

“Distracting you? Monsieur Holzfaller, I would never. We’re simply holding a conversation.”

“Sure,” said Gil, “then tell me what you’ve been up to.”   
“I’ve been enjoying all the wonders Paris has to offer.”

“Like conspiracies? Assassinations?” Gil asked.

Tarvek startled, he almost misstepped, but Gil compensated for him perfectly, picking Tarvek right off his feet and lifting him through the turn with ease. Gil didn’t seem at all surprised at Tarvek’s weight. Tarvek was willing to chalk that up to Gil just being ridiculously strong, rather than good facial expression control. 

“Like gentleman with less than gentlemanly hobbies,” Tarvek responded, and then regretted it.

Gil just laughed though, “Fair enough. Look, I’m no good at this. So I’ll just ask, what did you find in the Duke’s mansion? What are you up to?” 

Tarvek should’ve expected that, “What did Princess Xersephina say to you?”

Gil’s eyes narrowed, then he sighed, “If I answer, you will.” 

“Oh, that deal is hardly fair.”

Gil pulled Tarvek in closer, “How can I sweeten the deal?”

Tarvek felt himself blush and tried to force it down, “I don’t think you have anything to offer.”

Gil tilted his head closer, “I have plenty to offer.”

Tarvek’s brain almost crashed. He managed to keep his footing only because of the sheer strength of Gil’s lead. 

“I have yet to peruse your wares,” Tarvek said, fearing being silent too long, though it sounded too much like something in a cheap romance novel.

Gil huffed a laugh that Tarvek felt more than heard. They were standing scandalously close. Tarvek stepped closer, daring.

Gil was still smiling the bright sharp smile of challenge when he spoke, “I can’t properly entice you, if I don’t know what you’re looking for. How about this, what Seffie said to me, for what you found on that note in the Duke’s mansion. Then I’ll bargain for the rest,”

Tarvek didn’t really need to know what Seffie had said to Gil, but he wanted to. It wasn’t too much to tell Gil about the Duke’s letter. It had been encoded, but even decoded it wouldn’t be easy for Gil to figure out what it had really been about.

“Fine.” Tarvek agreed, “It was a letter thanking the duke for a birthday present.”  
“What was the present and who was it for?” Gil asked, “That’s part of what you found.”

“You first.” Tarvek said.

Gil’s jaw tightened and his face turned from mildly amused to determined, “Alright, she told me to be gentle with you.”

Tarvek frowned. That made absolutely no sense, there had to be more, “What else?”

“You first,” Gil smirked.

Tarvek breathed in, he felt suddenly like he couldn’t get enough air. He felt his grip tighten on Gil’s hand. He breathed out, and counted to ten before answering.

“The present was a hat, described as uniquely functional. What else did Seffie say?”

“Not a very pretty hat then,” Gil mused, “That I had to be careful which ladies I showed attention to, there would be future consequences.”

Tarvek’s mind whirled. That certainly sounded like Seffie thought Gil was sweet on Tatiana. Like she was warning him off. Except that couldn’t be right. Gil was a womanizer. Seffie should be warning Tatiana off Gil, like Martellus had. Besides what reason did Seffie have to think Tatiana was a poor match? Tarvek certainly hadn’t given her one. Tatiana was perfectly ranked for a powerful spark like Gil, who had a certain future of employment with the empire. If she thought Gil was serious about Tatiana, which itself was ridiculous, then she should’ve encouraged the match. Unless…. Tarvek began to connect more dots. 

“Who was the gift for?” Gil asked.

Tarvek had forgotten to answer, too busy thinking. He opened his mouth to answer then smirked. The dance ended. Tarvek dipped a curtsy.

“It’s been a pleasure Monsieur,” 

Tarvek made to sashay off into the crowd, but Gil was faster. He wrapped a firm arm around Tarvek’s bicep, and hauled him back. Before Tarvek could protest, Gil was twisting their arms together. Tarvek tried to wiggle out of his grip, but there wasn’t much he could do without being too competent. He stomped on Gil’s foot. Gil winced, but didn’t let go. Instead he began to haul Tarvek across the dance floor.

“Do smile, Mademoiselle, you wouldn’t want to call attention to yourself, now would you?” Gil said softly.

Tarvek felt an urge to hiss like a wet cat. Gil again had outmaneuvered him by being a stubborn brute. Gil just smiled brightly and leaned in to whisper in Tarvek’s ear.

“You still owe me an answer.”

Tarvek had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting. He managed though smiling genially and letting Gil haul him across the dance floor, and out a door into the gardens. There were a few guests meandering about the paths through the gardens, but not many this early into the night. Gil hauled them down one until they vanished from open view behind a hedge. Then he let go of Tarvek but kept walking. He left the path and moved behind an oak tree, so that he was hidden from view.

Tarvek stood on the path and considered for a moment turning around and heading back to the party. He didn’t though, instead following Gil. Tarvek had been making a lot of dumb, emotional decisons lately. He wasn’t going to stop anytime soon it seemed. Gil was leaning against the tree trunk, arms crossed and head tilted back. Careless, like it didn’t matter if Tarvek followed him or not. That annoyed Tarvek who had followed, and had been dragged all the way out into the garden. Clearly Gil cared, but he wanted to have an advantage over Tarvek.

“One might think you had ulterior motives, Monsieur.” Tarvek said as he joined Gil in the shadows.

“Who says I don’t?” Gil asked pushing off from the tree to cross the small distance to wear Tarvek stood.

Gil stopped a scant couple of inches from Tarvek, Tarvek resisted the urge to step back. He was wearing dancing slippers not heels so he’d lost the height advantage. Still Gil wasn’t taller than him, just broader, and Tarvek had plenty of room to maneuver. None of the panic of that moment in the closet rose in Tarvek at Gil’s looming. Instead a sense of anticipation burned between them.

“I know what you're up to Monsieur Holzfaller,” Tarvek said, falling back on flirting, because the temptation was too much to resist, he lifted a hand to tap Gil’s chest, “but the question is will I let you get away with it.”

Gil’s smirk sharpened, and he leaned in closer, “Oh I think you will. After all, there’s no fun if there’s only one player in the game.”

Tarvek blinked at Gil. He was flirting back. Did he actually drag Tatiana out here for an illicit encounter and not to figure out what she was up to. It was certainly in character. Tarvek had miscalculated again, he kept doing that. Tarvek was reacting, not planning, not thinking just letting Gil haul him along like a mindless minion. He needed to get control over his feelings and needed to start thinking. 

Tarvek pressed his palm against Gil’s chest and tried to push him backwards, but despite putting quite a bit of force behind it Gil didn’t budge. Tarvek resisted the urge to shove with both hands, or to hook a foot around Gil’s ankle and topple him properly. Those were dirty moves and Tatiana was a lady. He had to maintain the character first, so Tarvek pouted instead.

“You’re very presumptive.”

“I think I know you well enough to be presumptive.” 

Tarvek resisted the urge to snort. This was probably Gil’s idea of a long courtship. Which of course meant Tarvek should be on his guard. It was safe enough to flirt, but he couldn’t go any farther then that. He lacked the appropriate equipment. Which is why Tarvek should head back to the ballroom, to avoid temptation, to get back to what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Oh do you now?” Tarvek asked.

“I do,” Gil said, “So tell me, who was the gift for?”

Tarvek was hoping the flirting would’ve distracted Gil from his initial goal. Apparently not. He sighed dramatically, and flipped a loose curl over his shoulder.

“It was for Princess Xersephina.”

Gil bit his lip and Tarvek watched as he processed that. He frowned, shook his head and even tapped his fingers against the hand Tarvek still had pressed to his chest.

“Why was that the paper that caught your interest?”

“Now I don’t believe I agreed to tell you that.”

“That was rhetorical anyways. I have a better question, what do you want for the answer?”

Tarvek made a show of thinking about the offer. He twisted a curl around one finger and chewed on his lip, and watched as Gil’s gaze dropped to his mouth. Tarvek hummed softly. 

“I wonder Monsieur Holzfaller why you were there that night?”

Gil looked adorably puzzled, “You mean you don’t know?”

The question was answer enough.

“Following me? Well that’s a disturbing habit. You shouldn’t follow ladies around, people might begin to think you were unsavory.”

Gil snorted, “Oh, you already think I’m unsavory. No point in pretending otherwise.”

“I really shouldn’t be all alone with so ungentlemanly a man.”, and Tatiana exits stage right. 

Or he tried to, but Gil wrapped a hand around Tarvek’s bicep keeping him from walking away.

“Yet, you’re already here.” Gil said.

“And now I’m leaving before we’re found conspiring in the garden.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I never agreed to. Let me go Holzfaller.”

Gil let out a sigh, “Now you sound more like yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tarvek asked then shook his head he was getting distracted, “People will notice we’re missing. They’ll start to wonder.”

“They’ve already made their assumptions.” Gil said, “No one else is here. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I told you.” Tarvek yanked, but Gil didn’t let go.

“You’re suspicious of Seffie. But you're not sure yet what she’s up to. You're here to figure it out, right?”

Tarvek kept his face blank.

“But it isn’t her. This isn’t her modus operandi. She has something to do with it, but she isn’t the culprit right? So what’s the plan? You befriend her and hope she lets something slip? You go for one of her associates?”

Tarvek yanked on his arm again, panicking a little. Gil was way too close to the truth. He knew more than Tarvek thought he did. How many more guesses until he figured out Tatiana wasn’t who she said she was. How many more guesses until he figuresd the whole thing out. 

“Martellus?”

Tarvek froze. He hadn’t thought about that. He should’ve but he hadn’t. It wasn’t Martellus’s style, but if it was Seffie’s plan, her machinations for Martellus. That changed things. If Seffie was working for Martellus… Were they trying to flip Gil? Recruit him? Maybe just take advantage of the animosity between Tarvek and Gil. That, that could work. Gil was too close to Tarvek. Had they already flipped him? Then why was Gil asking, had he not realised they were using them?

“I’m right aren’t I. Let me help.” Gil said and pulled.

Tarvek had been busy trying to work out the connections and had stopped pulling away. He’d been unprepared for Gil to haul him in. Tarvek stumbled back towards Gil, and Gil snagged his other arm.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you're planning.” Gil said.

Tarvek opened his mouth to tell Gil to mind his own business, but over his shoulder he caught movement from further up the path.

“Someone’s coming.”

Gil turned, “Martellus. Damn it.”

Sure enough Tweedle’s head was visible over a hedge, he was talking to one of his knights. That was bad, Martellus would be suspicious about them conspiring in the garden. He wasn’t stupid. He’d be watching Tatiana like a hawk for the rest of the night. Which meant Tarvek had just lost any chance of sneaking away later in the night. Gil had screwed him over, again. 

“I have an idea.” Gil said turning back to him.

Tarvek had a sudden horrible thought of Martellus somehow figuring out Taitana was Tarvek. That would be disastrous, the worst possible outcome.

“Alright. What?”

“Sorry, in advance” Gil said.

Suddenly Gil was even closer, he let go of one of Tarveks arms and moved his hand to the side of Tarvek’s face. Tarvek had a brief thought that maybe he should’ve asked what Gil’s plan was. Then Gil was kissing him and Tarvek wasn’t thinking at all. He felt his hands move wrapping themselves into Gil’s coat hauling him impossibly closer. Gil’s lips were soft and warm and oddly gentle. Tarvek had the bizarre thought that he’d always assumed Gil would be a more aggressive kisser. For the first few glorious seconds of the kiss Tarvek forgot that this was Gil’s bizarre attempt at hiding from Martellus. Instead he revelled in it, in the thrill in his spine in the desire to taste, to feel. For a few seconds Tarvek forgot everything, but Gil. 

Then he heard Martellus make a surprised exclamation and he remembered. Tarvek didn’t quite stop kissing Gil or pull away instantly, but he was no longer fully involved in the kiss. He listened while Martellus made some disapproving comment to whomever he was with and they turned and headed back up the path. Tarvek knew the second Martellus was too far away and he pulled back. He only managed to put a few millimeters between Gil and himself, Gil’s grip on his jaw and waist still holding him close. 

“Martellus is gone.” Tarvek whispered against Gil’s lips, afraid somehow that if he was loud the moment would shatter around them.

Gil blinked at him looking dazed. “Good.”

Gil pressed in again for another kiss. Tarvek’s brain ground to a halt. Then he surged forward. The first kiss had been a mad cap plan to divert Martellus. This second one though wasn’t. There was no excuse, no reason other than desire. The kissed turned from gentle to passionate. Gil’s grip on his jaw moved to his hair. Tarvek hooked a hand around Gil’s neck. The one griping Gil’s coat slid inside it. 

Tarvek’s entire body was on fire. He’d never felt so alive in his entire life. He wanted more, he needed more. Tarvek wanted to crawl inside Gil’s skin. Gil seemed to feel similarly, because he kept pressing closer and closer. His tongue and his mouth were trying to devour Tarvek, and Tarvek was willing to be devoured. Gil’s hand not buried in Tarvek’s hair skimmed across his back up his thighs, wiggle it’s way between their torso’s.

Gil’s hands skimmed up Tarvek’s stomach and he cursed his corset for damping the feeling. Then Gil’s hand crept higher and Tarvek remembered that he was wearing fake breasts. He was dressed as a woman and Gil didn’t know it was him. Suddenly the heat drained from Tarvek and desire twisted to nausea. He shoved Gil off him and stumbled backwards.

They stood there staring at each other, faces red and breathing hard. Gil looked startled and glanced around them. There was no one else nearby. Tarvek had to say something, he had to leave before he did something ridiculous like cry.

“Well, we probably shouldn’t be seen reentering the party together,” Tarvek said forcibly calm.

He checked his wig, to make sure his hair was still in order despite Gil’s hand which was just an absurd thing.

Gil stepped close again and reached out a hand. Tarvek flinched, but Gil just carefully pressed a loose hair back into Tarvek’s updo. Tarvek felt his face get redder.

“Right, I’ll go now, you wait five minutes then head back.” Tarvek said, his voice still forcibly calm.

Gil nodded and Tarvek spun on his heel and strode off into the garden forcing himself calm. He had to go back to the party and find Colette. She would fix this, whatever the hell this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!! I have delivered. Next chapter is A theif. Hope y'all are staying safe. Stay home if you can and cover your face if you can't. I'll do my best to keep providing an entertaining distraction.


	5. A Theif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarvek and Gil finally talk, too bad they can't have heartfelt conversations that aren't interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breif warning for discussion of sexual assault. No sexual assault occurs, Gil just has a minor freakout.

Gil stared after Tarvek as he sashayed away as if this were the most ordinary situation in the  world. Admittedly this was Gil’s fault. He’d panicked and the first idea to come to his head was something he’d read in a Trewlany Thorpe novel once. He hadn’t really thought it through. Then they’d been kissing and...and it had been incredible. Gil had, after having been kissed by a handful of damsels in distress, come to the conclusion that books were exaggerating the benefits of the activity. Then he’d kissed Tarvek and he realized they’d been right all along.

Except now, Tarvek was leaving like it’d been nothing at all. Like his entire world hadn’t just been tipped upside down. Gil sat down where he stood, then tipped backwards to stare up at the sky. He hadn’t been thinking. Gil had gotten carried away, talking like a hero in an adventure novel had been working. So, he kept playing the part. It worked perfectly with Tarvek’s little Tatiana bit which was very much ‘plucky heroine’. Except, he’d forgotten how relationships between the brave adventurer and the plucky heroine always concluded. With a kiss. 

Kissing Tarvek had been stupid and wonderful. Which was a whole thing Gil needed to seriously think about. Was he into men? Was that why all those other kisses had felt empty and this one had felt incredible? He’d reread  _ In the Seraglio of the Iron Sheik _ so many times he was certain he was into women. But maybe the reality was different somehow. Maybe long exposure to Bang had put him off women. 

That was a crisis Gil really hadn’t been prepared for. It didn’t help that he was too busy thinking about the feel of Tarvek’s lips to properly process it. Distracted, like he always was around Tarvek. He’d been trying to apologize for what had happened on Castle Wulfenbach their entire time in Paris and still hadn’t managed to do it. Of course, Tarvek wouldn’t think anything of the kiss, he couldn’t even trust Gil. Gil who had tossed their friendship aside, in what must’ve seemed to Tarvek, like a childish tantrum. 

Now, Gil had even more things to apologize for. Plus, he still hadn’t figured out who was trying to kill Tarvek. That would be a good way to apologize. Save Tarvek, win their bet, and show Tarvek a good time. Apologize, and become best friends again. And if Tarvek maybe wanted to try kissing again Gil wouldn’t be opposed. That was for later though, first he had to figure out a new plan of attack as Tarvek had successfully evaded him. 

Once the five minutes were up Gil stood up, brushed himself off and meandered his way back to the ballroom. He’d made it maybe two steps through the door when Colette materialized at his elbow. Gil turned to smile at her only to be faced with the full force of her fury. If she hadn’t already been holding on to his arm with a grip of steel, Gil would’ve run. Unlike what Tarvek kept claiming, he did have a sense of self preservation.

“What the hell did you say to Tatiana?” Colette practically hissed in Gil’s ear, her nails digging into his forearm.

Gill started to speak and then closed his mouth again. He didn't really have any way to defend himself. He had technically gone and violated Tarvek in the garden. The kiss had clearly not been welcomed. Still, Tarvek had hardly seemed bothered by the whole thing. He’d seemed perfectly all right when he left Gil in the garden so why was Colette angry with him?

“What did he say to you?” Gil asked quietly, aware of the ears listening around them in the ballroom.

Collette opened her mouth to answer and then closed it frowning. 

“Gil what did you just say?” Colette asked. 

Gil repeated himself annoyed. 

“What do you think we're talking about?” Colette asked her voice dangerously quiet, she looked around at the people milling in the ballroom carefully.

They probably hadn't overheard what they were talking about but there was a good chance they were listening. 

“Tatiana” Gil said quietly as he could

Collette hissed back “Then why did you say he?”

“I meant she.” Gil said eyes on their fellow party goers, “Can we not do this right now?” he said turning back to Colette.

Colette’s brow was furrowed like she was thinking. It was better than the death glare, but it still made Gil worried. After a moment Colette shook her head, “This isn’t the time or the place for this conversation.” She dug her nails harder into Gil’s forearm, “Look, whatever dumbass thing you did. You need to apologize, Ta-Tatiana was a mess when she came back in. If you leave now, you might be able to catch her.”

Gil furrowed his brow. Tarvek had been perfectly fine when he’d left Gil in the garden. Had he run into someone on his way out, maybe Martellus? But if Tarvek had had trouble with Martellus, he would’ve told Colette. Tarvek had clearly put his entire trust in Colette, when he recruited her to his little scheme. Plus, Tarvek would never leave a party without informing Colette, normally he would inform the host, but informing Colette was the same as informing Seffie. If Tarvek had been upset, he would’ve purposely avoided Seffie. So, if Colette thought Tarvek was upset, because of Gil, then Tarvek must’ve told her that. Or at least strongly implied it. 

Which meant the kiss had upset Tarvek, hadn’t it? Of course it had, Gil realised suddenly. Tarvek hated Gil. He’d been flirting with him to mess with Gil, and Gil had taken advantage to violate him, like a cad. Tarvek had pretended to be unbothered, because he didn’t want Gil to see him weak. Tarvek must think Gil was the absolute worst, now. He had fucked up hard. Gil yanked his arm out of Colette’s claw like grip and started to rush off through the crowds, but Colette grabbed his other arm.

“Once you’ve fixed this, we will be talking about the other thing.” Colette said.

Gil's mind whirled and then things clicked into place, Colette hadn’t known that Gil knew Tatiana was Tarvek until Gil had mixed up the pronouns. 

“Right.” Gil said, and Colette released him.

Gil moved through the crowd with less decorum and more speed. Which involved straight up shoving people out of the way occasionally. That was fine, Gil needed to maintain his reputation of being a horrendous party guest. Otherwise, people might actually want him to show up, and that would mean he’d have to show up. Which was not a situation Gil wanted. Maintaining a reputation as a philistine was important to Gil’s long term plans. He needed people to dismiss and underestimate him. It also allowed him to do things like shove his way through a crowd of powerful people and not worry about the consequences.

  
  


**

Tarvek trudged down the street. He should get a cab, but walking at least was a small distraction from the dark thoughts tumbling around his mind. He’d miscalculated. Not once, but again and again. It was like Gil's mere proximity was enough to destabilize Tarvek's decision making skills. Flirting had seemed like such a good idea at the start. Except instead of being flustered Gil had matched him. Tarvek had delighted in having Gil flirt with him, and in a fit of narcissism he had encouraged it. Tarvek should've backed off, especially when even Martellus could see Tarvek's heart on his sleeve.

He hadn't though. He'd kept going like an idiot. Of course, Gil had kissed him. He was a womanizer. Tatiana had only to be mildly pretty and vaguely interested in order to entice Gil. Tarvek should have seen it coming and bailed before it got too far. He hadn't though. Instead he had to face the horrible realisation that Gil wanted to kiss him as Tatiana, but would be absolutely disgusted if he knew Tatiana  _ was _ Tarvek. He went and broke his own heart like an idiot. Gil could never know it had been Tarvek he was really kissing.

Tarvek had forgotten in the middle of the kiss about everything. About being Tatiana, about the swath of history between him and Gil. About all the reasons Tarvek couldn’t trust Gil. Even when Gil was all smiles and adventure, and pure righteousness he would turn on you the second it became too inconvenient to defend you. Gil was fickle, fickle with both friendship and love. Yet, he kept realing Tarvek in like the world’s stupidest fish. Tomorrow Tarvek would come up with a plan to unravel Tatiana from Gil, but tonight he just wanted to go back to his borrowed apartment and sulk in peace. 

“Hey! Wait up!” Tarvek grit his teeth, because of course the idiot couldn’t just leave him alone. 

Tarvek walked faster. Maybe for once in his life Gil wouldn’t be an oblivious idiot and get the message that Tarvek wanted to be left alone. He didn’t though, Tarvek could hear Gil running to catch up. Tarek adjusted his skirts and raised his head. Determined that Gil wouldn’t see how upset he was. Tarvek would be the very picture of polite disdain. Then maybe the imbecile would GO. AWAY.

“Ta-” Gil called out and then stopped himself, his hand rested on Tarvek's shoulder but didn’t grip. Tarvek shok it off.

“Mademoiselle Petrov.” Gil began again.

Tarvek had the distinct impression that Gil was trying to be polite, Colette must’ve caught him on his way back into the ballroom. Damn it. Tarvek hoped she hadn’t said anything too incriminating. Gil wasn’t nearly as stupid or oblivious as he pretended to be. If Colette had said something, which she certainly had. Well now Gil would think Tatiana was in love with him, or something equally as absurd. Because it was clear he was here to apologize, and Tarvek had done a good job of convincing him in the garden that the kiss had been nothing. Colette must’ve said something, because otherwise Gil wouldn’t be chasing after Tarvek.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior in the garden.”

Gil sounded stiff, like a nervous actor in his first play. The words came out toneless, like Gil was an automaton receiting pre-programmed lines. It almost made Tarvek laugh with how strange it was. He didn’t though, that would’ve seemed like forgiveness. 

“No apology is necessary, we avoid Prince Blitzengaard’s suspicion. The technique while not traditional, was effective.” Tarvek said keeping his voice calm and steady, “However, there will not be any repetitions.”

“Oh,” said Gil sounding disappointed, but that was probably Tarvek projecting, “At least let me walk you home.” Gil said, holding out his arm.

Tarvek ignored it and kept walking, “That won't be necessary.”

“I could get you a cab.” Gil added.

“I do not require your charity or your assistance Monsieur Holzfaller. Return to the party. Princess Xersephina was very keen on having you there.”

“I don’t care about Seffie.” Gil grumbled. 

“You should,” Tarvek said, unable to stop himself, “She’s very interested in you.”

“Really? Why?” Gil asked, surprised.

“I certainly don’t know.” Tarvek retorted, sounding a little more bitter than he’d attended to. 

“Nevermind.” Gil said, shaking his head, “Look, could you come back to the party, it isn’t safe.”

“I’m not an invalid.” Tarvek retorted back.

“That’s not-” Gil cut off abruptly and instead grabbed Tarvek and hauled him forcibly into an alley.

Tarvek was so surprised he didn’t even think of attacking Gil. Instead when Gil released him in the alley he planted his hands on his hips.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Shh.” Gil said then peeked back out onto the street.

Tarvek went abruptly quiet worried. 

Gil poked his head back into the alley after a moment and searched behind the bins there. Tarvek watched him frowning.

“Alright I think we’re alone.” Gil said after he finished searching.

Tarvek began to step carefully towards the alley opening. Gil reached out and snagged him. Tarvek became abruptly very very worried about what Gil was up to. He had for a second the bizarre thought that Gil was going to kiss him again. It made Tarvek freeze up, so he didn’t try to get away when Gil pressed him back against the alley wall. He was being surprisingly gentle in his man handling, if Tarvek had tried he could’ve wiggled out easily. Instead he let Gil press him up against the wall and loom over him again. Tarvek’s hands went up automatically to Gil’s chest but the shove he gave was half hearted. 

“Listen.” Gil said leaning in to whisper in Tarvek’s ear, “Look, I know alright. I thought you knew I knew, but Colette didn’t.”

Tarvek frowned hard, what was Gil talking about, “I don’t know what you're talking about..”

“Tarvek,” Gil hissed and Tarvek froze all over.

Then Gil was pulling away abruptly, “Did you hear that?”

Tarvek’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. Then he noticed Gil wasn’t looking at him, but up at the roof. Tarvek glanced up. Then moved shoving Gil back, knocking him to the ground. The body landed right where Gil had been standing moments prior. Tarvek scrambled quickly back to his feet pulling a knife from his sleeve. The attacker recovered first brandishing a death ray. It let out a blast that caught the edge of Tarvek’s sleeve. It shot hard to the left. Tarvek tossed the knife.

Gil was on his feet next barreling into the man. Tarvek’s knife missed as the attacker was knocked backwards, hitting his shoulder instead of his chest. It didn’t matter though the knife was poisoned. Gil’s hand went for it even as the two tumbled to the ground. Gil pulled the knife, even as the attacker tried to fire off another shot. The pain from the knife coming out sent that shot wide even as Tarvek ducked. The man was shooting at Tarvek. even while Gil had him on the ground. 

Gil went to drive the knife through the man’s wrist when he convulsed. Gil reared backwards as the man began to foam at the mouth. Tarvek stepped forward and hauld Gil backwards, before the man spewed all over him. They watched as the poison took effect. After a half a minute of spasming he fell still. Dead, if the smell of evacuated bowels was anything to go by.

“This is what I meant when I said it wasn’t safe.” Gil said.

“How?” Tarvek shook his head, Gil had figured it out Tarvek must’ve done something to give it away, “Who else knows?”

“I didn’t tell anyone.” Gil said too loud in the small space.

“I didn’t think you did,” Tarvek said, surprising himself with the truth of the statement, “But if you figured it out, I need to know how. So I can know who else might’ve seen through it.”

“Um,” Gil said.

“Just tell me when you figured it out.” Tarvek said, annoyed.

He knelt next to the body and began searching it. He hadn’t been able to find anything identifying the few assassins he’d managed to kill, but there was always a chance this one had slipped up.

“I uh knew the whole time.” Gil said behind him, his voice quiet again.

Tarvke froze his hands in a dead man’s pocket, “Colette told you.”

“No. She would never.” Gil said defensive, “I knew the moment I saw you.”

Tarvek pulled back from the assassin and turned on his knees to look at Gil. Gil was sitting on the ground legs sprawled in front of him looking at anything but Tarvek. 

“How?” Tarvek asked, “Grandmother didn’t recognize me, Seffie didn’t. I doubt my father would recognize me like this.” Tarvek gestured by spreading the skirts of his dress.

“I don’t know.” Gil said, “It was you, your face. That thing you do where you force your expressions into perfect representations of whatever emotion you’re trying to convey.”

“The what?” Tarvek asked confused, even as a thrill shot through him at the idea that Gil knew him well enough to recognize him. He shoved that emotion down under the confusion, like hell he was going to show Gil he cared. Baffled confusion was safer, if he acted like Gil was crazy then he wouldn’t realize how much his statement meant to Tarvek. 

“There, that.” Gil said, “You want me to think you think I’m crazy.”

“I-” Tarvek shook his head, “This is just my face.”

“Yeah.” said Gil, “Your face. Not some Russian woman’s yours.”

Gil was looking at Tarvek now. Searching as if he could peel back the layers of makeup and creative tailoring, and expensive padding to see Tarvek the man beneath Tatiana the woman. Tarvek felt his face heat under Gil’s gaze. He felt seen, in a way he never had before, Tarvek was always so careful with what face he presented to the world, and here Gil was tearing away Tarvek’s masks like they had all the substance of spiderwebs.

Tarvek shook himself, “That's ridiculous. It had to have been something else.”

Gil didn’t say anything at all to that. Tarvek went back to searching the body, but he found nothing except more knives and some money. Nothing identifying beyond a necklace with a gold ring on it. The ring was just a simple band, no decoration. The assassin had probably been married. Tarvek tried not to think about that. He had been trying to kill him after all

“Wait.” Gil said, crawling over to the body.

Tarvek paused, he must’ve missed something. But no, Gil was reaching for the gold band spinning it in his fingers. 

“I know this.” Gil said and then he pulled a multi tool from his pocket and scratched the head of a screwdriver against the ring. The gold peeled up immediately. The ring was only plated. Gil scraped it off vigorously revealing the brass ring beneath. It had an elephant carved into it. 

“Huh,” Tarvek said, “Not a wedding ring.”

“This is the symbol of the elephants.” Gil explained when Tarvek shook his head he continued, “They’re a second story gang. The best in the city.” then Gil clapped his hands, dropping the ring, “Good enough to steal from your family.”

“Good enough to sneak past a smoke knight.” Tarvek said in wonder, “Not assasins at all thieves.”

“Doesn’t explain why,” Gil said, “Someone must’ve hired them. They’re not normally assassins, but I suppose if there was enough money...”

“It would have to be someone who knew they would need to beat multiple smoke knights.” that they would need to beat Tarvek, “If it were family they could just send their own. Nothing would happen even if we knew. That’s how it works.”

“But knowing would still matter, it would show they had a motivation, something to gain,” Gil said.

Tarvek’s head spun it seemed now there were suddenly far more suspects not less. 

“Well, lucky for you. I’m friends with the Elephant's guild mistress.” 

“You’re-” Tarvek shook his head, “Of course you are.”

Gil snorted and stood up, “Come on. They usually work alone, but we shouldn’t stay here. If you go back to the party Colette can take you back to her home. That’s the safest place in Paris.”

“Right now Seffie’s ball is the least safe place in Paris. If whoever is trying to kill me isn’t there, that’s at the very least where they expect me to be.”

“Fair point.” Giil conceded and Tarvek was almost disappointed he hadn't argued, “I’ll take you back to my apartments, you can wait there while I figure out who hired the Elephants to kill you.”

“Absolutely not.” Tarvek said, “I’m coming with you”

“I am not taking you into a den of thieves, who have all been hired to kill you.”

“Hired to kill Prince Tarvek Stumvarous, not Tatiana Petrov.”

“They’ve clearly figured it out,” Gil gestured to the dead man.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.” Tarvek said, and he had in the back of his mind while the rest of him panicked about Gil, “This wasn’t anywhere as neat as every other attack. It was messy, they attacked while you were here instead of waiting for me to be alone. This was an attack of opportunity.”

Gil looked down at the body and around at the alley, “Right, I can see that. Bu-” Gil stopped then started again, “You think something happened recently that made this thief, that was what, scoping out the party? Made him realize you were, well, you. Then he simply saw an opportunity when I dragged you into the alley and attacked.”

“Precisely” Tarvek said, “He probably doesn’t even know who Tatiana is. He was probably more concerned at the possibility of losing me before he got his shot. So instead of tailing me and waiting for a better opportunity, or reporting back he tried to get me, before anyone else could get the credit.”

“Huh.” Gil said, “I’m not saying that that doesn’t make sense, but it's not worth risking taking you with me.”

“So it's safer for you to go alone?”

“Look Nicolette is my friend okay? She’s not going to let her guys jump me. Besides no one’s paying for my head.”

Tarvek bit back a retort about that. If Gil wasn’t careful people would start putting hits out on him. If he kept interfering with everyone’s plans like this. It wouldn’t matter that no one knew who his father was if Gilgamesh Holzfaller was too dangerous. Now wasn’t the time for that conversation. Not now when Tarvek felt so horribly exposed already.

“And what if she just lies to you? How would you know?”

“What and you would?” Gil snapped.

“Yes. Not only am I better at reading tells than you,” Gil scoffed at that but Tarvek ignored it, “but I’m more aware of who does and doesn’t benefit from my demise. If she gives you a name that doesn’t make sense I’ll know. Besides what reason were you planning to give for why you wanted to know anyways?”

Tarvek had an idea of how Gil was planning on convincing Nicolette to give him answers, but he did not want to go down that particular road. At all. 

“That you’re my friend?” Gil said, sounding more angry than anything else.

Tarvek took in a sharp harsh breath and then steadied himself, “How about something more realistic?”

Gil drew in a hissing breath and stepped over the dead body to shove Tarvek backwards into the depths of the alley.

“You are my friend, you absolute ponce. You've always been my friend. You may be a scheming backstabbing untrustworthy weasel, but you’ve always had my back. So if you could stop trying to bite my head off for five seconds, that would be nice.”

Tarvek suddenly found that he was breathing hard, “You say that like I’m the one who fucked this up. But that was you Gil, I was only trying to help and you-”

“I’m sorry!” Gil said flinging his hands up in the air, “Okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told on you. I was angry and upset, and the Baron had a lot of terrible things to say about you and your family.”

“My family.” Tarvek hissed.

“You’re not like them.” Gil said loud enough to drown out anything else Tarvek was about to say, “I know that now. And if I had thought for a second you’d get tossed off the castle I would never have.” Gil stopped, took a deep breath, “I wanted someone to blame for everything and you were there. I’m sorry. I regretted it immediately after. But it was too late.”

“oh.” Tarvek said. 

An apology had never been on the table. Reviving their friendship had never really been an option. Tarvek had been determined to simply spend his life nursing a broken heart and keeping Gil as far away from him, his family, and his father’s madness as possible. Except here Gil was apologizing, claiming friendship. Not offering it , claiming it with that determined set to his jaw and just the barest hint of spark harmonics in his voice. 

Tarvek broke. It was too much. All of it, first the kiss, then Gil knowing it was him and now this. Tarvek felt all the fight drain out of him in one clean sweep. He sagged back into one of the stone walls of the alley. Tilted his head back to stare up at the night sky.

“Okay. I forgive you.”

“You-.” Gil started then stopped then started again, “I-” Gil seemed to be choking on some sort of emotion, “thank you.”

They were silent for a moment and Tarvek struggled to haul himself back together. He couldn’t find Tarvek Sturmvoraus in the mess of his emotions, but Tatiana was easier. The outfit helped, Tarvek still looked gorgeous in the red dress and his hair hadn’t been ruined by the fight. He shoved himself off the wall and smiled like the adventuress Tatiana was.

“Now, let’s go catch some thieves.” he waltzed out into the street and Gil scrambled after him.

“Ta-. Tatiana” Gil said, “You’re not coming.”

“I am.” Tarvek said determinedly, “I’ve been hired by Mademoiselle Voltaire to offer whatever price is necessary to top the fee paid for the Elephant’s to kill her dear friend Tarvek. They’re thieves not assassins. They don’t have a reputation to maintain. I’m certain I can make an offer they can’t refuse.”

“That’s not a bad plan.” Gil said begrudgingly, “Fine, but we leave the second I get suspicious.”

“Fair enough.” Tarvek said hands on his hips, skirts swaying around his ankles, “Now I do believe you said something about a cab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're in the home stretch. There's one maybe two chapters left plus epilogue. I hope y'all are doing well, quarantine seems to be lifting, but keep washing your hands and avoiding going out. I know we're all going a little mad, but better crazy then dead. Stay safe y'all.


	6. A Culprit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarvek and Gil find out who has been trying to kill Tarvek, and a secret comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this. I've been writing a lot of ATLA fic lately. i rushed the editing on this to finally get it up. Thx so much everyone who commented! (Note: Gil autocorrects to Him, I might've missed one of those)

Gil it seemed didn’t only know the guild Mistress of the elephants he also knew the secret entrances to their hideout and the secret codes to get past the guards and where all of the best traps were. It was a remarkably easy task to get into the headquarters of the Elephants. Too easy. It meant if they had to make an escape they would have to go back through these paths, which were still trapped and the guards that were still all there, primed and ready to fight them. Tarvek’s concerns fell on deaf ears though, because Gil was certain this was all some sort of horrible misunderstanding and that his dear friend would definitely disapprove of assassinations of anyone. Especially not the assassination of someone who hadn’t wronged her or her people personally. There was a vote of confidence that Tarvek hadn’t done that in the statement that warmed something deep within Tarvek.

The hideout was actually very well-designed; built into one of the many subterraneous Caverns that seemed to riddle the Parisian underground to the point that it was really quite remarkable the whole city didn't tumble into a sinkhole. The entrance was one long tunnel that had a warren's worth of offshoots leading all over the city. The different exits would allow the thieves to filter in and out from different points within the city. all without undermining the defensibility of the hideout. Which meant that if this turned into a fight Gil and Tarvek would have their backs to the wall from the very beginning.

The final guards in front of what must be the guild Mistress's office frowned very hard at Tatiana. Tarvek from where he stood behind Gil did his best curious anxiety expression looking as if this is all very new and different to him. In reality Tarvek was trying to remember what weapons he had on him and which poisons and antidotes he was carrying. There was very little chance that by the end of this night Tarvek wouldn’t have to use some of them. Tarvek would most likely have to retire this disguise after tonight. Which was perfectly fine for Tarvek who was really rather quite done with it. He would have to come up with a better idea. Maybe he could disguise himself as a sewer rat. At least then Gil wouldn't try to kiss him.

While the guards seemed generally suspicious, they let Gil by easily enough. Gil winked at one of the girls who turned bright red. Despite her embarrassment she still managed to smirk at Tarvek. In a fit of pettiness, Tarvek stepped forward to wrap his arm around Gil’s. Gil gave him a sideways glance, but didn’t otherwise react. Tarvek felt mildly smug which was ridiculous. The girl had more luck of getting what she wanted out of Gil then Tarvek did. Mostly because Tarvek was no longer sure what exactly he wanted. 

Guildmistress Nicolette's office resembled a pirate captain's office much more than what Tarvek expected from a Second Story Thief. The room was dominated by one giant table and the walls were covered in trophies. There was a second door in the back that probably led to a private bath or maybe even a laboratory. If they were lucky, which Tarvek wasn’t going to bet on, it also held a back exit. It would be a lot easier to bail that way when this inevitably went sideways. Tarvek identified some of the various trophies as possible weapons, some were clearly actual weapons. 

Tarvek’s attention came last to the guild mistress herself. She was much more of what Tarvek had expected. She looked like a smartly dressed middle class young lady. Her clothing in fashion, but not particularly daring. The coloring was primarily neutral with just enough splash of color to keep her from looking overly modest. Tarvek could also see the practicality to the design, the looseness to the sleeves that would allow a greater range of motion, the way the hat would shade the woman’s face with the slighted downward tilt of her chin, even the durability of the linen fabric itself. The women beneath the carefully dull clothing wasn’t particularly eye catching either. She was pretty in a youthful way, rather than a striking one. 

Tarvek wished Gil had a type. Most of the women he hung around were pretty, but the ones he actually liked tended to be dangerous, intelligent or a mixture of the two. While Tarvek doubted Nicolette was a spark, she was clearly intelligent and dangerous. You didn’t become the leader of a guild of thieves good enough to bypass smoke knights by being stupid or weak. Nicolette smiled at the sight of Gil in her office, though she cast a brief narrowed eyed look at Tarvek.

“Gil, darling. What a delightful surprise,” Nicolette said standing up and coming out from behind her desk to greet them.

“Evening Nicolette, sorry to pop in like this,” Gil said releasing Tarvek to greet Nicolette properly.

“Ma cherie, you are always welcome,” Nicolette said, “What brings you by?”

Gil stepped back and away from Nicolette coming to stand by Tarvek again, “Well, may I introduce my friend Mademoiselle Tatiana Petrov. She has come here with a request, I am simply providing an introduction.”

Gil it seemed, could be polite when the situation called for it. Tarvek stepped forward and offered Nicollete a brief tiny curtsy, “Thank you for speaking with me Madam,”

“Of course,” Nicolette said frowning slightly at the ‘Madam’, “Any friend of Gil’s is a friend of mine. What can I do for you Petrov?”

“I am here on behalf of Mademoiselle Voltaire, it has come to her attention that your association has accepted a contract against her dear friend his highness Tarvek Sturmvarous. She has intrusted me to buy out the contract from you.”

Nicolette’s only surprise at this was shown by a rapid series of blinks, her smile did not falter. Tarvek was mildly impressed. 

“Well, never underestimate the skills of a Voltaire,” Nicolette said, “I will not ask how the Mademoiselle discovered this information, but it is no matter, his highness has fled the city. We cannot complete it.” Nicolette waved a dismissive hand.

“So it was you,” Gil said his voice oddly flat, “You took out an assanation contract on my friend,”

That surprised Nicolette as well, she let it show this time, taking a step back and pressing a hand to her bosom. She let out a little gasp. Oddly the gasp came after she’d step backwards, Tarvek eyed her warily. 

“Your friend? But you despise the prince. Everyone knows that.” Nicolette said.

“Everyone,” Gil said sounding amused, “That’s odd, seeing as how everyone seems certain that if anyone in Paris knows where Sturmvoraous has gone it would be me. All of my classmates seem to be under the impression that we’re dear friends.”

Tarvek’s head snapped around to Gil. He was grinning at Nicolette. The expression sent shivers down Tarvek’s back, and not the good kind. The grin was reminiscent of the one Gil wore in the throes of his spark, but his voice was completely devoid of any spark harmonics. It took a moment for Tarvek to realize that Gil was angry, furious even. The anger Gil directed at Tarvek was different from this. When Gil was angry at Tarvek it was hot, and his spark was always just under the surface waiting to break free. This anger was cold, and it was clear Gil had his spark held in a tight grip. 

“Really?” Nicolette said and now she was properly surprised her hands flexed and she frowned a little bit, “I’m sorry, Gil I didn’t know. If I had-” Nicolette swallowed and dropped her head.

Gil let out a long breath. Tarvek decided it was time to redirect this conversation.

“Fortunately, Prince Sturmvarous is still alive,” Tarvek said hoping to deflate Gil’s anger a little, “However, it is of interest to Mademoiselle Voltaire who exactly hired you.”

Nicolette flickered her attention to Tarvek, though she still seemed focused on Gil. For his part Gil had crossed his arms across his chest and planted his feet. The stance made him look a little like the baron. 

“Is that really important?” Nicolette asked, “There are plenty of people who want the prince dead, I’m sure Mademoiselle Voltaire is already aware of all of them.”

“None of them have ever gotten nearly as close as you did. The decision to enlist a second story crew rather than assassins was rather ingenious, an enemy with that kind of thinking is far more dangerous then another backstabbing royal.”

Nicolette preened at that. Tarvek almost dismissed it. Nicolette had plenty of reason to be proud of her crew’s skill, especially in their ability to beat some of the best assassins in the business. Except, Nicolette was a little too smug. Plus her smugness had shown a little later than Tarvek expected. Nicolette was hiding something. 

“I see,” Nicolette said, “well, while I’m more than willing to stop trying to kill his higness. I am not comfortable revealing my employer. If they find out I was the one who let it slip they’ll definitely come after me for it.”

“I ensure you, Madame” Tarvek said, “They will be far to busy to be bothered with you.”

“You will forgive me for not taking your word for it, dear.” Nicolette said.

“Please, Nicolette. Give us something.” Gil said stepping forward and taking Nicolette’s hands, “I need to make sure he’s safe.Please for me?”

Nicolette blinked up into Gil’s face and Tarvek watched her melt. The woman was clearly in love with Gil. Unfortunate for her, because Gil was as likely to commit to a woman as he was to kill one of the evil sparks he fought. Gil was all about redemption and mercy and second chances. Which was just asking for a knife in the back. Honestly, between the way he went through girls and enemies it was a shock that he hadn’t gotten one yet. 

Oddly enough, the closest Gil had ever gotten to angry ex lovers was drinks tossed in his face or face slaps. The mild sort of thing you didn’t usually associate with sparks. None of the women had been sparks, but many of them had been deadly in their own ways. Like, Nicolette herself. 

“I,” Nicolette said blinking up into Gil’s face, “I can’t” she pulled away and strode dramatically across the room to lean against a shelf, her back to them.

It was a very good bit, if she was playing a lover in a drama telling her beau she couldn’t abandon her family and run away with him. Which seemed a little out of context. Tarvek stepped closer to Gil and leaned into whisper in his ear.

“She’s hiding something,” Tarvek said.

Gil tensed and nodded, “She hates the nobility, she would sell one of them out immediately.”

“Blackmail?” Tarvek asked.

Nicolette turned back around then, so Gil didn’t get a chance to answer. Nicolette’s gaze snapped to where Tarvek’s hand was on Gil’s shoulder. Tarvek smirked at her and trailed his hand down Gil’s arm as he pulled away. Gil snagged his hand as he pulled away and squeezed reassuringly offering Tarvek a tiny smile. Tarvek smiled back just the tiniest bit touched that Gil was worried about him. Mostly he was goading Nicolette. 

It worked, because when Tarvek turned back to Nicolette, she was glaring at him. Tarvek smirked smugly channelling Seffie. He let Nicolette see Gil reciprocate the affection, show that Gil actually cared about him. Because apparently he did. That still sent a thrill through Tarvek, so long as he didn’t think about it too long. Nicolette clearly was jealous, hopefully that would make her more desperate to please Gil.

“Fine,” Nicolette said, “I’ll tell you, it was Prince Martellus Blitzengaard.”

Tarvek let out a barking laugh. He covered his mouth almost immediately, but failed to effectively smother his laughter. The idea was so absurd. When Martellus finally did kill Tarvek he’d do it himself. Or at least be present to gloat while Tarvek died of some debilitating poison Martellus had designed himself. Their grudge was personal. The idea Martellus would hirer anyone capable of actually killing Tarvek without making absolutely sure tarvek knew it was him was simply absurd. 

“What is so funny mademoiselle?” Nicolette demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Tarvek said, “but really there is a long list of names I would’ve found believable. That was not one of them.” Tarvek began to pace around the room, he was missing something, what was it?, “Oh sure, everyone knows Blitzengaard wants Sturmvoraus dead, he stands to inherit quite a lot of things if he does die. But everyone knows that. Not to mention there is a strict agreement on carrying out such schemes within Paris. One you might think Blitzengaard would be fully willing to break if he thought he could get away with it,” 

Nicolette didn’t want to tell them who hired them, so she’d lied, she’d given them a name that would be believable if you hadn’t done the research, which meant Nicolette hadn’t bothered to figure out who else wanted Tarvek dead. If she was willing to go out on a limb and take up assasination there had to be something significant on the table, something that should’ve made her suspicious of her employer. She was using only baseline knowledge of Tarvek. 

  
“Except, he actually wouldn’t. Blitzengaard respects the Master, and the peace of Paris. So who are you really working for hmm?” 

Tarvek stepped in close to Nicolette who had set her jaw determinedly. Her gaze slid to where Gil was looking thoughtful near the entrance, before turning back to Tarvek.

“You seem to know an awful lot, Mademoiselle,” Nicolette said, “How do I know I can even trust you? That your not trying to kill the prince yourself?”

“Because I came with Gil,” Tarvek said with a smirk, “and he is so terribly worried about his dear friend Tarvek” Tarvek enjoyed saying that.

Nicolette’s jaw flexed. Tarvek had her cornered, he just needed to keep pushing until she revealed something or cracked. Tarvek stepped back and spun around putting his back to Nicolette. He was trusting her infatuation with Gil to keep her from attacking. She wanted Gil’s approval more than anything, she wouldn’t hurt Tarvek while Gil was watching. Not if she wanted to stay in Gil’s good graces. It was clear that was the only thing keeping her from tearing Tarvek’s throat out. 

Tarvek examined the wall of trophies. They were all interesting and rare treasures, the kind that would be very difficult to resell. Things that were recognizably unique and would be known as stolen. Displayed to show the ease with which they had been stolen, rather than any inherent value of the items. Additionally, there was paperwork jammed into shelves, ink pots and papers. Nicolette did all her work here. This was her primary office. 

Tarvek eyed a piece of machinery he’d once seen on display at the Louvre. You wouldn’t steal from there unless you had a buyer, or you simply wanted to show off. All of these items were the kind of thing that would normally be stolen, because you’d specifically been hired to steal it. But Nicolette hated nobility, Gil had said. She wouldn’t take jobs for petty noble rivalries. Instead she stole from them because she could and displayed the results in her office. Her office in the back of a their hideout. She wouldn’t meet customers here, not fences and not someone looking to hire the Elephants for a job.

“This is an impressive collection,” Tarvek said, “You could get a fortune for any one of these items if you had the right buyer,”

Nicolette snorted, “I steal from nobles, I don’t work for them. These are mine, if they wanted the they should’ve done a better job protecting them”

“No you don’t” Gil said, “You don’t work for nobility Nicolette, you can’t stand them. You couldn’t stand me at first,”

“Your father was a rural spark, I misjudged you,” Nicolette said voice soft and apologetic.

Tarvek moved towards the paperwork hoping Gil would hold Nicolette’s attention. He couldn’t believe he told her the bloody sausage maker story. The pirate rumor was at least more romantic.

“I know,” Gil said, “and I know that’s why it made it easy for you to believe it was okay to kill Tarvek, he’s a ponce I know, a stickup his ass and a golden spoon in his mouth,”

Tarvek rolled his eyes. He plucked a sheaf of papers from the shelf and flipped through it. A list of names and numbers, payroll for her crew. He stuffed the papers back. He was missing something. Something obvious. Tarvek plucked a book from the shelf. It was a compendium of names and blackmail gathered on them. Tarvek skimmed for his own name. 

“But that isn’t a good reason to want him dead,” Gil said.

“No that wouldn’t be,” Nicolette said voice soft.

Tarvek found his name and almost dropped the book. Next to his name was a shockingly incentive list of schemes Tarvek had been running, but under that in bigger text was the word ‘Rival”. Tarvek’s name had been crossed through. Nicolette saw Tarvek as a rival, Nicolette wanted him dead. Why? Tarvek put the book back. They needed to leave, he could figure out why later.

“Please Nicolette, anything you can give us would help,” Gil said.

“I’m not putting my neck out for your prince Gil,” Nicolette said and there was bitterness in her voice.

Tarvek stepped away from the bookshelf and spun around. Gil had one hand holding a strand of Nicolette’s hair the other squeezing one of her hands. He had a charming smile on his face that if he’d ever directed at Tarvek, would’ve probably reduced Tarvek to a stuttering mess. Gil apparently did know how to be charming on purpose. Which explained a lot actually. 

“There’s no need,” Tarvek said, “Thank you for everything Nicolette,”

Tarvek turned and headed for the exit hoping Gil would follow. He got within two feet of the door when Gil said.

“Wait!”

Tarvek paused and turned back around, “Yes Gil?”

Gil had paused his hand wrapped around one of Nicolette’s arms tight enough to hurt judging by Nicolette’s face.

“One of your people tried to kill Tatiana.” Gil said.

“Oh?” said Nicolette, “I certainly didn't tell them to do that, I’ve never even heard of her before now, you sure it wasn’t personal.”

“Yes,” said Tarvek watching Gil whose face had gone cold angry again. 

“No, I think they were following orders,” Gil said, “The same orders, they were following when they tried to kill Tarvek.”

“What are you talking about Gil?” Nicolette said, sounding confused, but she was trying to wiggle out of Gil’s grip.

“Nicolette,” Gil said, “Did you order your people to kill Tarvek because of me?”

Tarvek stood stock still in shock. His brain started connecting the dots even as Tarvek rejected the inevitable conclusion. Nicoletteconsidered Tarvek a rival. The same order to kill Tarvek had lead someone to try to kill Tatiana. The only similarity between Tarvek, Tatiana and Nicolette was Gil. Nicolette had tried to kill Tarvek over Gil. Nicolette was in love with Gil. 

“You have to understand Gil,” Nicolette said, “He’s one of them, he doesn’t care about you, he can’t you’re no one to him. Just some rural spark, not proper nobility.”

“You’re wrong Nicolette,” Gil said, “you can’t see past your own prejudices.”

“I know you believe in people Gil, but some people are beyond redemption,” Nicolette pleaded finally tearing herself from Gil’s grip.

“You’re right,” Gil said “Some people are”

Gil picked up a random heavy trophy and tossed it directly at Nicolette who ducked and slammed a button under her desk, an alarm began to blare. TArvek spun immediately towards the door prepared for the guards to come bursting in. He dug a device out of his pocket and fixed it to the latch. It would prevent the door from being opened, and if they tried to force it, the whole thing would blow. Backup handled, Tarvek turned back to Gil and Nicolette’s fight just in time to see Nicolette drop a smoke bomb. 

Tarvek moved quickly, the worst thing you could do in a fight when visibility dropped was stay still. Silently Tarvek moved around the edge of the room and to where he remembered the second door being. He slipped through quietly shutting the door behind him before the smoke could follow. Tarvek had hoped Gil had had the same idea, but the room was empty. Tarvek moved away from the door before he began to examine the room.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a back exit. Fortunately, it was a laboratory. Tarvek made his way over to the equipment. Nicolette for all her flaws, kept a tidy laboratory, her chemicals were properly labeled and stored. Tarvek began to pull some down from the shelves. If they could blast their way out, they’d probably hit another set of caverns. That was a lot smarter than trying to fight their way through an entire thief guild. 

Tarvek had managed only to start the process of assembling his materials when someone else entered the room. He grabbed one of the more corrosive chemicals and spun around. The room was empty. Not Gil then. Tarvek went back to assembling his chemicals, he got one vial over a burner before he felt the shift in the air behind him. He side stepped neatly. Nicolette’s knife shattered an empty beaker. 

“Smoke knight,” Nicolette said, “I should’ve guessed. You don’t really work for Voltaire do you?”

“You are very talented,” Tarvek said dodging and retreating backwards, he didn’t have a chance to continue processing his chemicals, Nicolette pushed him quickly away from the lab bench.

“I know,” Nicolette said, “I’ve killed dozens of your compatriots, and those were just the ones who were good enough to catch me,”

That was admittedly the tiniest bit terrifying. Tarvek was a lot better in a fight then he’d let anyone believe, but he was hardly an expert smoke knight. Still, he managed to stay alive, even sent Nicolette stumbling into his elbows and knees a few times. Nicolette landed flat on her face, once and Tarvek went to pull a knife, only for her boot to connect to his wrist. Tarvek let out a cry as the bone snapped. Then Nicolette was back on her feet and Tarvek was dodging around a knife aimed for his throat.

“Enough playing,” Nicolette said, and suddenly she let out a flurry of blows so quick and precise, Tarvek was forced to block rather than dodge.

That threw Tarvek off enough that he was unable to stage a counter. He was losing, and quickly. It didn;t help that he was wearing a fancy dress instead of one designed to be fought in. Nicollette moved and her foot caught Tarvek’s knee and Tarvek went down. In a fit of pique, instead of going in for the kill Nicolette stomped down, Tarvek screamed. 

“You bitch,” Nicolette growled knocking Tarvek’s knife out of the air, “I finally got rid of that prince he was so obsessed with and then you waltz in and try to snatch him away, like you have any right?!”

Tarvek took the opportunity to get out of the way, so when Nicolette did go in for the kill her knife drove into a body double. She let out an inhuman screech. Then she turned on Tarvek and charged, Tarvek tried to move, but he forgot about his busted leg and stumbled. The knife came down and Tarvek had no time to dodge. He scrambled for his antidotes instead.

The knife didn’t make impact. Instead Gil was there; furious and holding one of the spark devices from the trophy wall.

“I’m sorry Nicolette,” Gil said voice harsh, “But you’ve gone too far.’

Gil pulled the trigger and the death ray fired. Nicolette didn’t even have time to scream, her skin was boiled from her bones and her skeleton flopped to the ground. The scent of ozone hung in the air. Tarvek let out a breath of relief and flopped to the ground. 

“Are you alright,” Gil asked.

“My knee is busted, and my right wrist is broken,” Tarvek said, “You?”

“I’m alright,” Gil said.

Tarvek narrowed his eyes, because Gil wasn’t in the habit of assessing his own injuries properly. Before he could press there was an explosion. The door bomb had gone off. 

“Stay here,” Gil said, “I can handle it.”

TArvek rolled his eyes as Gil left the room. He plucked off his shoes then hauled himself back up to his feet. Carefully he limped back towards the door. He had only made it halfway across the room, by the time Gil returned. 

“Door’s blocked,” Gil said, “We’re trapped.”

He stepped towards TArvek narrowing his eyes at Tarvek and then froze. Gil stumbled sideways. Tarvek stepped forward and tried to catch him. Gil was heavy and Tarvek’s legs weren’t working properly so they both ended up on the floor. 

“What’s wrong?’ Taarvek asked.

“I can’t feel my feet” Gil said, then slapped a hand against his shin, “Or my calves,”

“Did you get hit?” Tarvek asked.

Gil revealed his right palm, two even cuts ran across it. Gil had caught Nicolette’s knife by the blade. It had definitely been poisoned. 

“Shit,” TArvek said and shoved Gil off him onto the floor.

“Ow,” said Gil.

Tarvek crawled across the floor and carefully picked up Nicolette’s knife where it had fallen, then crawled back to the lab bench. He pulled the chemicals he’d left on the burner off before they could over heat and set about testing the knife.

“I can’t feel my fingers,” Gil said, “It’s definitely a paralytic,”

“I know,” Tarvek said as the liquid turned first blue then pink, “Fuck.”

“What?” Gil asked and lopped around the floor a bit in an attempt to stand up.

“I know this one, it will paralyze every muscle in your body, you’ll suffocate when your diaphragm freezes up.” Tarvek said.

“Fun,” Gil said, “My body should be able to process it.”

“Your insane physiology is slowing it,” Tarvek explained, “If that had hit me, I’d be asphyxiating right now.”

“Oh,” Gil said, “Can you counter it?”

“No,” Tarvek said, “I can counteract it, there’s enough chemicals here that I can keep dumping a steroid down your throat and keep your lungs working and your heart pumping.”

“That’s a start,” Gil said, “There’s a bunch of spark work in Nicolette’s office. I’m sure you could assemble something from it.”

“Probably, “ Tarvek said, mixing chemicals a little viciously, “But someone needs to force the steroid down your throat every five minutes. Which I can’t do if I’m in the middle of a fugue.”

“I can remember to take a drink every five minutes,” Gil said.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that when you can’t move your arms?” Tarvek asked.

“Uh, well, if I had-” Gil said.

“A device that would take me more than five minutes to assemble.” Tarvek said. 

“Right,” Gil said. 

“I can keep you alive for forty minutes,” Tarvek said, “But I can’t do anything else.”

“Oh,” Gil said, “Maybe you should-”

“SHUT UP!” Tarvek said, taking a moment to brace himself against the lab bench, “Just- I’m going to keep you alive for the next forty minutes and hope somehow someone comes for us.”

“And after,” Gil asked. 

“Well, I’m certainly not going to bawl my eyes out over your death,” Tarvek growled limping across the room flask in hand.

“Someone ought to look at your knee,” Gil siad twisting to look at Tarvek. 

“I can make a splint,” Tarvek said.

“Of course you can,” Gil said.

Tarvek sat on the ground and hauled Gil’s limp body into his lap. He didn’t need to give Gil the steroid yet, if he was still talking then his lungs were still working. 

“I’m sorry about this,” Gil said, “It’s my fault.”

“Yes, if you weren’t such a cad you wouldn’t have a woman so desperately in love with you as to systematically assassinate their rivals for your affection,”

“You know that means you're a rival for my affection," Gil said with a smirk. 

Gil tried to raise his hand to smack Tarvek, but it flopped usually as he lacked control of his elbow. Tarvek snagged his hand out of the air anyways. Tarvek squeezed Gil's hand, but Gil didn't react. Instead he was rolling his head across Tarvek's chest in an attempt to sit up. Tarvek snagged him around the hips and adjusted them so Gil was sitting between his spread legs propped up against Tarvek’s chest. Gil’s head flopped back onto Tarvek’s shoulder.

“Apparently you’ve been paying me far too much attention.” Tarvek tried to sound jovial, but it was tough considering the circumstances.

“Yeah, probably,” Gil said, sounding thoughtful.

Tarvek snorted, the whole situation was bizarre. Gil was probably going to die soon, and they were still beating around the bush of their feelings. 

“I meant it you know,” Gil said, “My apology. The only thing I’ve wanted for the last few years was to see you again. I missed you, Tarvek.”

Tarvek felt suddenly choked up he swallowed around it, “You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it.”

“It’s not my fault you’re insufferable,” Gil grumbled.

Tarvek laughed.

“You should really try and get out of here, you could probably build a tunneling device,” Gil said and was cut off by his sudden sliding down onto the floor again.

“There goes my abdomen,” Gil said.

“Won’t be long now,” Tarvek said resettling Gil in his lap.

“Hey, can I have a last request?” Gil asked.

“You might not die, maybe Colette’s looking for us,” Tarvek said.

“Maybe,” Gil said, “Or maybe I’m going to slowly asphyxiate while paralyzed.”

Tarvek wasn’t much of an optimist. He did believe Gil was going to die here, in his arms. IT was terribly romantic, Tarvek hated it. He would give back the kiss, Gil’s apology, all of it if it meant Gil could go on living. Tarvek was fine pining from a distance while Gil hated him, it worked. He had no idea what he was going to do when Gil was dead.

“Fine,” Tarvek sighed, “What’s your last request?”

“Could you lose the wig and make up? If I’m going to die staring at your stupid face, I’d like to be your actual face, not a disguise.” Gil said.

Tarvek snorted. It was a terrible idea to ditch his disguise. The other thieves could dig them out at any point. Tarvek would have to kill them then, so they wouldn’t be able to tell anyone that Tatiana Petrov was really Prince Tarvek Sturmvarous. It wasn’t like he was planning on reusing the disguise at any point anyways. Tarvek reached up and carefully removed his wig. Then undid the pins holding his hair up in a bun. Then he pulled out a handkerchief and his emergency makeup remover and went about erasing Tatiana.

“There ya arr” Gil slurred.

“Your face is starting to freeze up,” Tarvek informed him, “Time to take your medicine.”

Gil made a gurgling sound.

“It’s amazing that this is what it took to shut you up.” Tarvek said, not really feeling the joke.

Tarvek propped Gil up a bit so he could pour the first dose of the steroid down Gil’s throat. Gil’s head flopped uselessly on his neck. Tarvek settled him back down and checked his pocket watch. Then Tarvek settled in for the wait. He sat silently through the next two doses. Except the pain in his knee and wrist ached, it didn’t help that Tarvek had been using his wrist. There was nothing much to distract him from it except Gil drooling onto his skirt. 

Tarvek had started running his good hand through Gil’s hair. When he noticed himself doing it he hesitated, then went right back to doing it. Gil couldn’t feel the motion anyway. After the fourth dose, Tarveks started thinking about the fact that Gil was probably going to die here like this. 

“You just had to be the big hero didn’t you?” Tarvek muttered.

“She would’ve let you live, she was in love with you. This paralytic was meant for me,” Tarvek said getting angry to drive back some of the despair.

“I could’ve dodged,” Tarvek said, “but you had to grab the knife out of the air. Who does that? A man who thinks he's immune to all poisons, that’s who. Well guess what? You're not immune to this one Gil. “

The anger didn’t last long though. Tarvek had to lift Gil up for another dose and plug his nose to force him to swallow. It was horrible. Gil’s body just flopped around, except all his muscles had locked into place so it was very stiff flopping. It was hard to stay angry at someone so helpless.

Tarvek went back to silently petting Gil’s hair. Then after another dose he started talking again.

“This is really my fault,” Tarvek said, “She was trying to kill me and not you. Then I had to go and flirt with you as Tatiana, which made that elephant thief think I was another rival. If i hadn’t been so selfish.”

Tarvek paused in his self wallowing as a series of other things began to click, “But you flirted back! And you knew it was me?! What were you thinking Gil?” Tarvek shook Gil a little not that it helped, “You knew it was me and you- kissed my hand? Why?” 

Gil blinked up at Tarvek. It was just an automatic motion. He'd lose control of that too soon.

“You know,” Tarvek said, “I kept trying to find out who your father was, you know. I knew that sausage story was a load of garbage. Plus, I guess I thought it would vindicate me somehow. I don’t know. I figured out why the Baron was so determined to keep it secret though. That’s what he was doing when he sent me home, making sure no one found out. Bad idea, I found out anyways.”

Tarvek let out a bitter chuckle, “I destroyed the evidence I found. The only thing that would’ve changed if I had stayed is that we would’ve done it together.” He sighed, “We wasted a lot of time didn’t we? Years we could’ve been friends, lost.” 

Tarvek felt empty with despair for a bit. Then he had to give Gil another dose. Tarvek only had the one left. He spun it in his hand.

“Less than ten minutes left to live,” Tarvek said, “I’m sorry all you get to do with it is listen to me grumble. Better than being alone I suppose.”

Tarvek began to tell a story from when they were younger. Recalling their adventure fishing hats from Jaegers. It wasn’t as funny as he remembered it being, but Tarvek still recalled it fondly. Telling it just made the reality of Gil physically dying in his arms so much worse. When Tarvek finished he raised the last vial to Gil’s lips. Then he started to cry. Which was embarrassing.

Gil was going to die, any hope of rescue had faded three vials ago. He wasn’t making it out of this. It was that certain knowledge that gave Tarvek the courage to do what he did next. He lifted Gil a little higher so he could whisper directly into his ear. There was no one else to hear him, but it felt too dangerous to say it any louder than the barest whisper.

“I love you, Gil. I’m sorry,” Tarvek breathed and then he kissed Gil’s limp lips.

Feeling particularly dramatic in the moment Tarvek tipped his head up to despair at the ceiling. The ceiling decided it didn’t want to cooperate with that particular notion. It exploded down, the debris landing a few feet from Tarvek and Gil. A burst of light broke through from the new hole. From the hole in the ceiling descended an angel, or well descend Bangladesh Dupree. Tarvek decided that was a good time to pass out. The world went promptly black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So the next chapter is an epilogue and then there is another final sequel fic. The Secrets of Sturmhalten. I would apologize for the cliffhanger, but I'm not sorry. Mwhahahaha. In other news I haven't posted any of those ATLA fics yet, but I probably will soon. So if you like Jetko or Zukka subscribe to me and you''ll get an alert when those go up. I hope you are all surviving the disaster that is 2020. I'll try to get the epilogue up soon. <3

**Author's Note:**

> So as requested I attempted Gil's POV. Which is hard. Probably why the Paris Chronicles is such a struggle for me. Tarvek's head is wasier for me to get into. I also already have a sequel to this I want to write. Also maybe one day I'll write the Phantom of the Opera canon compliant fic that needs to be written. In other news, I finished my dissertation (yay!) so who knows when updates will happen. Not me.


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